Finding Peace
by DJ Sparkles
Summary: Dwalin has always been a rough and gruff warrior. But when through no fault of his own he gets tangled up with a young woman from Bree, will he finally find some peace in his life? Rated M for later chapters. Dwalin/OFC, NOT a Mary Sue. Mentions of canon character deaths. Spoilers if you haven't read the book. Mostly movie-verse.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom ****my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part One

Dwalin pushed his pony a little harder. He wanted to be in Bree before nightfall.

The sooner he finished this errand, the better he would feel. It wasn't a joyful one; but he had promised Kili that it would be done. And a promise sworn to a friend on his deathbed could not be broken.

That Kili had been lost with Thorin and Fili at the Battle of the Five Armies was a bitter blow. Thorin had fought so hard and for so long to take back their home, and for him to die as it was won was unthinkably tragic. That his heirs would fall as well was unacceptable.

But Kili, Kili had lived for a time after the battle. Not long – his wounds were too severe. But it had been long enough for him to tell Dwalin of his friend, of the girl he had meant to bring back to the mountain once it was theirs again. He had spoken of her with deep affection, describing her in detail to Dwalin so he might be certain to find the right woman. She lived in Bree, Kili explained tiredly. She could be found at an inn there, the Prancing Pony.

Dwalin shook his head. He'd been sleeping rough, traveling for what seemed like months, and for what? A promise given to his dying Prince, a promise to take word to a common tavern wench of her friend's death in battle. But it was a promise. An oath taken that must be fulfilled.

He was at the gates, finally. It was a simple matter to be passed through and he was directed to the inn as being the best accommodations. He'd withhold judgment until he had seen the place. Food first, he decided. And he could see if this Annabelle was worth what Kili had demanded of him.

He kept a careful watch around him. He was probably safe enough here, but old habits died hard and he hadn't lived so long by being careless.

Most of the gathered guests were giving him a wide berth, as well. Good. He wasn't exactly in the mood to mingle with Men this night. The Hobbits present reminded him of Bilbo as he had been when the Quest started, and it put his temper a bit further into the black. And where was this Annabelle that Kili had thought so highly of?

The serving girl was putting pints in front of a group of rowdy Men and he scowled at their treatment of her. She was silent, either unheeding of their cruel words or simply uncaring. Still, she didn't deserve their scorn.

She was pretty, he supposed, in an understated sort of way. Chestnut hair, worn to her waist, a heart-shaped face with big dark eyes – and then something unusual caught his eye and he startled badly.

In her hair, on the left side next to her face, she wore a braid. That in itself wasn't noteworthy, he supposed, but the clasp, the clasp he recognized and the reason for their scorn for her was suddenly apparent to him in a way only a Dwarf would understand.

The silver bead that held her braid had a twin. And that twin rested in his pack, to be given to her as a final gift from Kili.

The final piece clicked into place and he rose, knowing he wasn't as imposing as these Men who were so scornful to her, but still he was a force to be reckoned with and they would know it as well. "Ya might want to treat the lass with a bit more respect," he said evenly as he drew near.

"And what business is it of yours, Dwarf?" the biggest Man growled as he flicked his gaze up and down over Dwalin dismissively. "You the one put a claim on a human woman?" His hand went to the knife he wore at his belt without a thought to the possible consequences.

Dwalin had him disarmed and face down on the table in mere seconds. "No, that would have been my Prince," he snarled furiously. The Man's dagger was plunged into the tabletop and left quivering next to his face. "Now apologize to the lass, or I might take offense." His words were a hiss of rage.

The Man snarled something unintelligible and Dwalin merely tightened his hold. The others had backed away, clearly deferring to their companion's judgment or lack thereof. "Fine!" he squealed suddenly. "I'm sorry!"

Dwalin released him and stepped back, keeping a watchful eye toward the others. He wouldn't put it past this band of bullies to attempt a bit of payback. Finally he thought them cowed enough he could turn away and he bowed to Annabelle. "Dwalin, at your service," he said evenly. "Is there someplace quiet we could talk, lass?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Two

Annabelle showed him to a quiet room on the second floor and ushered him inside. He had a fleeting moment's thought for her reputation and then shook his head. Apparently it was already in shreds; and it no longer mattered anyway. He would take her from here as soon as he could arrange it. He wouldn't allow her to stay where she would be abused.

She sank into a chair and watched him, her eyes wary. He growled inwardly at the sight; it seemed she'd been taking their scorn and abuse for a long time for such an expression to linger. Then he schooled himself and sat down across from her. It would be cruel to draw this out.

He told her. He told her of Kili's accomplishments in the quest, of his steady loyalty. Of his mischievous antics with his brother Fili. Of the terrible battle to retake Erebor – and of the devastating wounds he had taken. He spoke of the longing in Kili's voice when he spoke of her, the desire to see her again, and the sorrow when he realized he never would.

And through it all, she sat still and silent, her face stricken with grief. And when he offered her the little silver clasp, the bead that matched the one she wore, she took it in her hand and he nearly closed his eyes against the pain in hers.

They sat in silence for several moments before she finally drew a breath and spoke, her voice soft and thick with grief. "Thank you for bringing me word," she said simply. "I had wondered why he hadn't returned." Her fingers touched the braid in her hair and she eyes were bright, but she didn't weep. "That he died well, that he was trying to reclaim his home, those were important things to him."

Dwalin regarded her steadily. Did she really understand what that braid meant? That Kili had been courting her? Surely she did. And her actions spoke of his affections being returned. She was completely devastated by his loss. "Why were those Men so cruel to you?" he asked simply. He knew, or thought he did.

"Because I accepted the suit of a Dwarf over that of a Man," she said simply. "They think me damaged because I dared to love outside my own race." She shrugged eloquently.

"You know I will not leave you here, lass," Dwalin began slowly. Kili had found worth in her, and he would respect that, even if he hadn't seen it yet. That she had set herself apart from her own people for love spoke of enormous strength. And yet she showed none of it when dealing with the bullies that had scorned and abused her. She simply existed.

"And where will you take me, Master Dwarf?" she spat suddenly. "There is nowhere in this world I may go now without ridicule. Nowhere I might find peace." She visibly took hold of her wayward emotions. "You have done as you promised, Dwalin. You brought word to me of his death and you brought his final gift to me. You may go now and get on with your own affairs. Leave me to mine."

He blinked. She'd seemed such a timid little mouse that her furious words surprised him. But it proved he had been correct. She had strength. She just needed to learn to use it. "I'll take you home," he said softly. "To Erebor. Where Kili would have wanted you."

He rose then, intending to take his leave and make preparations. They would need another mount, and a pack animal probably. He was used to living rough, she wasn't. And she might be a tavern wench, but Kili had claimed her and that made her a Princess. She would need comfort.

"And if I don't want to go?" Her words were bitter and angry.

"Then I will stay." He caught her expression and tilted his head slightly. "You need protection from that lot. They won't stay cowed for long."

"And who appointed you my protector?" she spat.

He half turned and gave her a glare. "Kili." And he was gone out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Three

Dwalin rose near dawn to check on his arrangements. He'd acquired another pony, a taller one to suit Annabelle. He was tall for a Dwarf, and she taller still, so she'd need a bigger mount though he thought she'd do ably with this one if she could ride at all. It was gentle and steady.

The pack pony was sturdy and should do well. They wouldn't be rushing, but Dwalin wanted to get moving anyway.

He encountered her in the common room as he stepped inside and she regarded him with something he couldn't identify. Her face was half in shadow and he stopped suddenly, straightening slowly, anger again beginning to simmer under the surface.

He went forward and raised his hand, taking her chin in his fingers and turning her to fully face him. Yes, he had seen what he thought.

A large purple bruise sat on her cheekbone, marring what was a fairly pretty face. Obviously it had happened in the night, while he should have been listening for trouble. His glower deepened. "Who did it?" he demanded.

She jerked away from him and went back to wiping the tables. "It doesn't matter," she said woodenly though her eyes flashed a clear warning. "This is my life, Dwalin. It's all I know. And while I could easily have done with the abuse by removing this, I won't. I won't betray him that way." Her own fingers went to the clasp of the pretty little braid in her hair. "I loved him. I still do. And bruises are a small price to pay for that kind of love." Her voice softened then. "And he loved me. If he didn't, he wouldn't have courted me quite so openly. And he wouldn't have sent you to make sure I didn't pine away waiting for him."

"Aye." Dwalin didn't desist, though. She had honor, if she refused to make her way easier by simply removing the braid. Kili was dead, he would never know, and yet she refused to dishonor his memory in that fashion. Yes, she had worth. "But he wouldn't want you abused in this fashion, either."

"Perhaps not." Her words became crisp and businesslike again as she began swiping at another table. "But this is the life I know, and I'll keep it. You can go about your business, return to your Mountain, whatever you want, Dwalin. I'm staying here."

He growled but she refused to acknowledge it. She simply continued working as if he were no longer there. "You don't belong here," he finally ground out. "Kili meant to bring you home to us, as his wife."

"This is exactly where I belong," she returned evenly, though she turned to face him again. "This is my home. If Kili -" Her voice broke and she had to take a deep breath. "If Kili had lived, it would be different. Now it never will be. So I will remain here, dream of what might have been, and live with what must be."

"Then I'll be staying as well." He caught her eye for a moment and held them, finding the tiny touch of uncertainty in those dark pools and slightly encouraged by it. Maybe he could still persuade her to leave. But for now, he would simply remain and guard her. "Those Men won't just leave you alone, Annabelle. They hate you. And they will hurt you if they can." He gestured to her cheek. "Even more than this." He couldn't explain his sudden belief they would come back. He'd cowed them; but they were bullies and those didn't stay frightened for long.

"Why do you think you have to protect me?" she grumbled as she went behind the bar to begin pulling mugs. The crowd would start arriving soon for breakfast. Why wouldn't he just go away?

"Because of who you are." The words were simple, but they got her attention. "Because of who he was." He regarded her steadily, wondering for a moment how she would take it. Obviously Kili hadn't told her everything. "What do you know about the line of Durin?"

"I know that Thorin Oakenshield was of Durin's line, and he was King under the Mountain," she said slowly, really looking at him now. "If he hadn't died as well. What's this to do with me?"

She didn't know. Dwalin wanted to knock his head against something hard. Repeatedly. Kili hadn't told her. "Kili was Thorin's heir," he said simply.

She paled. "He was – he was – oh, my." She shook her head and then made a visible effort to compose herself. "It doesn't change things, Dwalin," she replied as she leaned heavily against the bar.

"It changes who you are," he replied quietly. "As Kili's intended, you are his princess. And as such, my responsibility." He raised a brow at her when she looked confused. "I have protected the Durins for a very long time, Annabelle."

The door opened behind them and Dwalin gave her a short, intense glare and retreated to a table in the corner. He had meant ever word of his vow; if she remained here, so would he. She was his to protect, now. And he WOULD find out who had hit her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

**I have to explain that this story is actually completed. Y'all will get an update at least once a day, but probably more than that, until it's all there. Hopefully y'all will continue to enjoy the ride! Let me know via review or PM! Thanks!**

Part Four

Days passed. Annabelle remained determined to stay in Bree, and Dwalin remained convinced that she should return to Erebor with him. And so he became a fixture in the taproom, watching her from a table in one of the darker corners. Those who were frequent visitors to the inn became accustomed to the dour Dwarf in the corner and paid him no mind. And through it all, Annabelle continued to work. She brought him a mug of ale occasionally, but other than that, she ignored him as well.

Word spread quickly, however, that those who would insult or abuse Annabelle had best be ready to defend themselves.

Things settled into a routine. Dwalin would wake near sunrise each morning and greet her with a small smile and then settle into his spot in the taproom. He would remain there, barring trouble, until she returned to her room for the night.

It was beginning to wear on her nerves.

Then one afternoon a group of Men came in. They were rough, travel stained, and dangerous-looking. Annabelle went immediately to get them ale once they were seated and they watched her as she walked away again, and something in Dwalin's gut clenched.

They spoke quietly amongst themselves, and they caused no trouble, but their eyes never left her. Dwalin's unease increased when one left the inn and the other two completely stopped pretending not to watch her. Eyes followed her every move and he shifted, prepared to intervene if they did something untoward.

Nothing happened. Nothing save a meal and then they departed. And yet Dwalin couldn't relax. And he was too used to listening to those feelings to ignore them.

She was headed to the market the next morning when he fell in step with her. She, as usual, tried to ignore him and he put a hand on her arm. She stopped still and stared at him; he hadn't touched her since the morning he found her cheek bruised. "What is it?" she asked softly as she regarded him steadily.

"Be watchful," he said simply.

She nodded and started again for the market. It was strange, she thought, strange how he'd only been there a few days and she had already gotten used to having him nearby. She wasn't sure she liked it, but she was getting used to it.

When it came, the attack was swift. Dwalin was bowled over by the onrushing Men and Annabelle went to the ground beneath two of them, a scream torn from her as Dwalin threw off his own attacker and blocked the downward stroke of the knife.

He twisted his axe and the would-be assassin flew backward and he grabbed Annabelle and threw her behind him. "Come on then!" he snarled as he brought his axe up once more.

The Men backed away slowly. The leader sneered toward Dwalin as they turned away. "You win this time, Dwarf. But have a care. You can't be with her every moment of every day." And they were gone.

Dwalin turned to Annabelle and held down his hand to her. "Come on, lass," he said simply. "We're leaving. Now."

She took the outstretched hand and got to her feet, shaking. Those Men had tried to kill her! "Where are we going?" He had saved her life. Maybe she should have listened to him to start with.

"Home."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

**Again, thanks for all the reviews and PM's! Another update tomorrow (or later today if I can LOL)**

Part Five

Annabelle didn't argue. She let him load everything she'd chosen to bring on the pony, her lower lip between her teeth. She wasn't taking much, really. Just the few things she had left of her mother's and what Kili had given her. Her clothing, and there was precious little of that. "Tell me again why I'll be safer in your mountain than here," she grumbled, but she wasn't really that upset. "I don't even know why those Men attacked me. I don't understand it. Who'd want to kill me? I'm a bar maid!"

"You're a princess, lass, whether you want to be or not." Dwalin finished tightening the straps on the pony's packs and then went to help her mount. "As Kili's betrothed, you're part of Durin's line. And the safest place for any Durin is Erebor." He climbed aboard his own pony and they started off.

"Dwalin, it's getting late." She surprised herself by using his name, but she supposed she'd better get used to it. "How far are we going before we stop?" She was tired. She had been attacked in the market and then they had come to pack. She shouldn't be so tired, gathering her meager belongings hadn't taken that long – but it was still several hours later and she wanted sleep for some reason.

"We'll go for a while yet." She wasn't spoiled, he knew. She had worked hard for her living. And once she realized the danger she was in, she hadn't balked at anything he'd asked of her. But still, he had a feeling this journey wasn't going to go very smoothly. Of course, that could be his natural disposition showing through. If something could go wrong, it usually did. "They'll be after us before too long, or others will. You heard what the brute said. I'll need eyes in the back of my head to watch over you."

"I'm sorry." It was the first thing that came to mind, but she meant it.

Dwalin merely nodded. She was sufficiently scared at the moment, but would it last? Then again, did he want it to? This frightened rabbit was a far cry from the Annabelle he had come to know, the one who was stubborn and proud and had loved his friend deeply. This one seemed far too uncertain to do much more than go where he told her and try to stay unseen.

They rode in silence then for a time. Dwalin was considering their route to the mountain and Annabelle was just trying to stay on his good side by being quiet and not bothering him. The amount of violence in him had finally gotten through to her and she was almost afraid of him. Almost. Some soft, tiny voice inside her told her that he would never hurt her and she was listening. She hoped it was right. Seeing him in the marketplace that day had only reinforced what she'd learned from the first night they'd met. Dwalin was a very, very dangerous Dwarf.

Finally, sometime after moonrise, he called a halt. She slid gratefully to the ground and would have stayed there, content to sit on something that wasn't moving, but he was setting up the camp and she wanted to help him. She refused to be a burden. "What can I do to help?" she asked quietly.

"Get a fire started, if you can," he said simply as he cleared a small area for her bedroll. "I'll find us something to eat." He still had some provisions from his journey to find her, dried meat and bread. It wasn't much but he was at least sure it wasn't poisoned, either. His protective instincts seemed to be in full force.

She nodded and gathered a few sticks, laying them into the proper positions for a good fire, bringing a few larger ones close, but she had no flint. She watched him rummage in the packs for a moment before screwing up her courage. She wasn't afraid of him, of course not. "Dwalin? I've no flint to light this with."

He drew his without a word and handed it to her, watching her from under hooded eyes as she turned to use it. She had seemed afraid of him, and he didn't understand why. He would never hurt her, he was there to protect her.

He had just turned back to the ponies when he heard a soft sob from her. She was taking pains to stay quiet about it, but she was crying, and suddenly he unbent just a bit. There was no reason to make her miserable. She'd lost everything that gave her life meaning, she'd lost Kili, and he hadn't given her time to grieve properly.

He turned back to see her staring at something in her hands as she sat near the fire, tears on her face though beyond that first sound she was silent in her grief. He moved closer, wanting to comfort her and not certain how to go about it.

The box she held was a work of art. A master craftsman had carved it from a solid piece of obsidian. It was small, which made the detail of the work that much more remarkable, and suddenly he realized he had seen this box before. Kili had labored over just such a treasure for months, but none had known what it was for. It had been generally thought he was trying to bring in coin, as everyone else, but obviously they had been mistaken. It had been meant for Annabelle, even then. Just how long had the lad been courting her? And why had none of them known? He had held her a closely guarded secret and Dwalin didn't understand why. It couldn't have been shame. Love such as that tiny treasure box proclaimed didn't provoke shame. But it was what lay inside the box that shocked him into immobility.

It was a simple lock of hair.

She had a lock of Kili's hair.

Dwarven hair was an intimate portion of their lives. To be invited to touch another's was a great intimacy, and braiding it was limited to family or loved ones for the most part. But for a Dwarf to willingly gift another with a lock of his own hair – that was nearly unthinkable. It spoke of a depth to Kili's love for her that none would have suspected he was capable of at his young age.

She looked up then and closed the box firmly, wiping her eyes and gathering herself again. "I'm sorry," she said simply. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

He sat next to her, considering. There must be a great deal more to her than he had seen for Kili to have loved her so deeply. "No need for that," he replied with a snort. "I should apologize to you for not giving you time to grieve properly." She needed that, it was obvious. For all he had seen of Kili's love for her, she had felt the same. It was obvious in the way she still wore the braid he was suddenly certain Kili had done for her, the way she refused to remove it to make her life easier, the tender, gentle, almost reverent way she held the little treasure box he had given her. It was obvious in the sorrow that gathered in her eyes when she was sure no one was looking. "We'll rest here tonight and decide which way to go in the morning. We should be safe enough for now."

She nodded and leaned against him suddenly, seeking comfort and he didn't have the heart to move her. His arm slid around her and he tried not to think of how wrong it was for him to touch her like this, to hold her, when she was his friend's wife. Well, wife in all but fact. But she needed comfort and there was no one else for her to take it from so he held her. And he continued to hold her as her breathing hitched, silent sobs coming from her as she wept for her lost love, and then evened out into sleep.

And as he held her, he couldn't help but think that the sooner he could get her to Erebor, and to Dain, the better.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. PirateColey for moral support, sounding board, scream hearer, and just in general encouraging me when I freak out. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Six

Dwalin woke suddenly in the morning and groaned under his breath. He was getting too old for nights spent rough, for all he wouldn't change things. And then he woke up just a bit more and realized he had a warm bundle of something in his lap. Automatically he reached to touch her hair and stopped himself quickly. He settled for shifting slightly which dislodged her a bit and she made sleepy noises before opening her eyes and scooting backward in a hurry.

He reached for her and just as suddenly pulled his hand back. She was near terrified and for a moment he couldn't understand why. "Annabelle!" he said sharply in hopes of breaking this spell. "It's me. You're all right."

She stopped and watched him for a moment and he saw comprehension flare. "I'm sorry," she said again. He was getting tired of those words from her. "I didn't realize – I didn't remember – I'm sorry."

He simply growled at her and went to the packs for more food. Suddenly he realized how close they were to the Shire and maybe – maybe Bilbo could help him calm this mouse down. What had Kili seen in her? She was stubborn, she was willful, and she was pretty, but love like Kili had shown wasn't drawn by outer beauty. There was something in her that had attracted him and Dwalin had yet to see it.

"We'll go west today," he said as he handed her a strip of meat and started breaking camp. The fire had burned out during the night so he simply kicked some dirt over its remains and moved on. Bedrolls were packed and stowed, and when he turned around, Annabelle was saddling her own pony and not making too much of a mess of it. He crossed to stand behind her and put a hand on one of the straps. "Here. Like this." He showed her quickly and then undid it again. "Now you do it."

She learned quickly, anyway. She had it the moment he let go. "There's a lot I'm going to have to learn," she remarked idly. "I hope you're willing to teach me."

"If you're willing to learn, I'll teach." His words were short and clipped. Yes, a trip to Hobbiton would be a good idea. He needed some time to teach her basic survival skills and perhaps at least to use a dagger. She'd have to be able to protect herself if he wasn't able to.

Annabelle shrank inward again. He scared her, and she wasn't sure why. She knew his name, of course, knew who he was, had known all along. Kili had spoken of his companions often and fondly when he came to see her. But he was frightening, just the same. Very, very dangerous, her mind said again. But she was able to mount unassisted and she counted that a minor victory.

They rode for several hours before stopping at the bottom of a little hill. Dwalin dismounted and offered one of the nearest Hobbit children a shiny coin. "Take care of the ponies for me and you'll get this," he said gently as he watched the boy. "We'll be here an hour, maybe two. After that, you might get more. Agreed?"

The boy gave him a sunny grin and nodded. Then Dwalin looked to Annabelle, indicating that they would go up the hill. She followed him silently, wondering at this place. She had heard of the Shire, of course, everyone in Bree knew of it. She just hadn't though of visiting it.

He used the doorbell and she raised an eyebrow. She'd have thought him one to simply pound on the door. "He's a bit particular about his door," Dwalin explained with a bit of an odd twinkle in his eye.

The door opened and Bilbo looked out, a broad smile creasing his face when he recognized his friend. "Dwalin! Come in, come in!" Then he saw Annabelle as he stepped aside to allow Dwalin to enter and gave her a strange look before remembering his manners. "Bilbo Baggins, my lady, at your service." He offered her his arm to escort her inside, burning with questions. Little ones, of course, such as why Dwalin had appeared at his nice clean home so soon after his own arrival and in the company of a human woman. And was that a braid in her hair? A silver clasp? His eyes went straight to Dwalin.

Annabelle had to stoop to enter the little home but she was delighted by what she found inside. Comfort, cleanliness, a sense of home. It was wonderful.

Dwalin cleared his throat. "Ah, Bilbo, this is Annabelle," he explained quickly. He had seen the Hobbit recognize the little clasp and nodded. "She wears Kili's bead." Best to let the Halfling understand from the start.

"Oh, my dear, welcome!" Bilbo didn't disappoint. He and Kili had become friends on the quest and while Kili had said nothing of this woman, it was obvious he'd cared deeply for her. Dwarves didn't just give away hair adornments and the fact that Annabelle was with Dwalin spoke of something important. She must be grieving horribly, though. Kili had been mortally wounded during the Battle of the Five Armies and he must have sent Dwalin to find her. He became quite somber. "Forgive my simply horrible manners, Annabelle, you must miss him terribly." He took her hands in his smaller ones. "Please, make yourself at home. You are the wife of one of my dearest friends and as such, more than welcome here. The parlor is through there, the dining room there, and the pantry at the end of the hall. I'll just have a word with Dwalin."

He drew the Dwarf aside into a sitting room and closed the door. "What on earth? Dwalin, I didn't know Kili was courting! And why in the world did you bring her HERE? Not that I'm not glad to see you, I am, but it's not been all that long since I left Erebor myself, and I was somewhat hoping to become a bit of a respectable Hobbit again. Well, that's not likely in any case, but it still was a hope, wasn't it? But why are you here?"

"Buying time." Dwalin embraced Bilbo in Dwarvish fashion and set him back to look at him, concern in his eyes. "Someone tried to kill her." He shrugged.

"Kili sent you to her, didn't he." It wasn't a question and Bilbo was thinking frantically. "Well, yes, of course he'd want her to know he wasn't coming back, he'd want her protected, oh, dear, she's royalty now and not likely to be used to it. But why would someone want to kill her? And what aren't you telling me, Dwalin? I know you and there's something you're not saying."

"That I can't understand what Kili saw in that frightened little mouse in your dining room, for one thing," Dwalin rumbled quietly. "She's nothing special, at least to my eyes. Nothing more than a common barmaid. And she's terrified of everything. Including me."

Bilbo blinked. His mouth opened once and nothing came out and he closed it again. One hand raised to point at his friend, but then it dropped as well. Finally he found his voice, though it was deceptively soft at first. "She's a barmaid." A short pause, during which time Bilbo was obviously thinking hard. "A barmaid?" Then he snorted. "A barmaid. Dwalin, you IDIOT, it's no wonder she's afraid of you! You're a warrior, you're strong, and, and you're covered in scars, and, and tattoos, and she's a BARMAID! Of COURSE she's afraid of you!" He threw up his hands. "We'll have to teach her she can trust you and that's likely to take some time. How much of that do you have?"

"Probably not much," the Dwarf replied as he twitched a curtain aside to look out the window. "I'd hoped to throw any followers off our trail by coming here. It should give us a day or two at least. If you're willing to allow us to stay, that is."

"If I'm willing – Dwalin, you – of course you can stay!" Bilbo huffed slightly before smiling again. "All right. First we should -"

Annabelle's voice at the door startled both of them. How long had she been there and what had she heard? "If you two would like to come out, there's supper on the table."

Dwalin and Bilbo exchanged surprised glances. She'd cooked for them? This had to be investigated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Seven

Annabelle let them get settled at the table before serving them. "I only warmed over some things I found in the pantry," she explained as she set out several dishes. "But Dwalin and I have been traveling for several hours and I thought he might be hungry, and I know Hobbits can always eat. And it's the least I can do to make up for barging in unannounced."

Dwalin was watching her from under his brows as he enjoyed the food. Whatever else, Annabelle's cooking was good. Of course, knowing Bilbo, she'd had choice ingredients to start with. "It's good," he finally said as he pushed back a clean plate.

"That's Dwarf for thank you," Bilbo said with a sniff. "Annabelle, please, you don't have to serve us. I should be doing it, really, since it's my house, but thank you just the same. Please, sit down. It seems we all need to talk."

She perched on the edge of one of the chairs, not at all sure it would hold her weight. Her eyes were wide again and she attempted to school her expression. She had heard some of what they were discussing behind closed doors and she knew Dwalin was getting frustrated with her. Despair threatened and she shoved it down deep inside. If someone was truly trying to kill her, she didn't have time for it. And she needed him to teach her how to defend herself.

Dwalin simply watched her. Where was the woman he had met? She had seemed, if not confident, at least not so uncertain. She had known who and what she was, she had seemed comfortable in her life, accepting the scorn and abuse with not a blink to show for it. The woman seated at Bilbo's table was a mouse, frightened of everything and looking for all the world as if she'd run at the first opportunity.

She had sounded herself again when she announced dinner, and when she talked to them about it. But now, again, she was afraid. He was a bit tired of it, to be honest. If he had to contend with this level of fear all the way to the mountain, he might do her a bit of violence himself. She had worth, he reminded himself firmly. Kili had loved her.

"The first thing we need to do, Annabelle, is convince you that Dwalin would NEVER hurt you," Bilbo was saying quietly. "Yes, he's scary, he absolutely terrified me when we first met. He's fierce, and he's quite accomplished with that axe. But he would never turn on a friend or on someone he is to protect. He'll watch over you, never fear. He is responsible for you at Kili's request and because you are one of the Durins now. You're his princess, young lady, and he'd defend you to the death if for no other fact than that."

Aye, he would. But what he wanted first was a stop to her fear. All right, maybe she should feel a little afraid, since someone was trying to kill her. But he didn't want her afraid of him. He wasn't all that fearsome. She didn't seem to completely believe the Hobbit's words, and suddenly he thought he might have a way to make her understand. "I give you my word," he said quietly, "that I will never hurt you. I will protect you to my dying breath, Annabelle. I swear it."

She blinked. A Dwarf would honor such a vow to his dying day and she knew it. It was part of what everyone understood about them. "Thank you," she said softly. Her whole demeanor changed slightly as she got herself under control once more. "Now, what else can we do?" Was it really that simple? She was scared, yes, she was terrified for her very life, but she also felt protected. Not safe, not really, but protected. "Oh, and Dwalin, you might want to send that coin down to the children with the ponies and send them to be stabled, if we're going to stay here. It wouldn't do to have them out in the dark, even in the Shire."

Dwalin nodded and rose but Bilbo was suddenly at his elbow. "Good gracious, no," he said evenly. "I'll take care of it."

Annabelle watched Dwalin for a moment as the Hobbit went out the door. "You're not talking," she said simply. "What's wrong now?" She wasn't afraid of him, simply on the strength of that vow. But she was concerned.

"We have to get you a weapon of some kind," he replied thoughtfully. "And the Shire isn't the place for that, unfortunately." He took stock of what he had, and thought about what was on the ponies. Then he took something from his belt and flipped it, handing it to her hilt first. "See how this feels."

She wouldn't have a clue how it was supposed to feel, she thought irreverently, but she took the wicked looking dagger anyway. And it didn't feel wrong, like she'd expected. It fit her hand decently, the hilt comfortable in her grip. She looked up at him from the bright blade. "Not too heavy," she explained quietly. But her words were sure as they hadn't been for some time and he was encouraged. "If you teach me, I think I could use it."

He nodded, his eyes on her face. Yes, this was miles better than she had been before. Had it really been that simple? His eyes again strayed to the braid she wore so proudly and inwardly he growled. She should never have had to endure scorn or ridicule for it. It marked her as something special. Kili had loved her dearly enough to have crossed a barrier and she had met him halfway. It spoke of her courage, but he had yet to see it. And suddenly he hoped he never had to. She should stay just as she was, and it was certain she would have to change to survive.

"It's getting late," he said finally as the Hobbit returned from seeing to the ponies. "Let's see where Bilbo wants to put you so you can rest."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Eight

The morning dawned bright and cheery and Annabelle groaned when the sunshine hit her face. She would have been up and working by now if she still had her old life. Instead, she was in a Hobbit hole in the Shire, apparently fleeing for her life. Who had those Men been? And why did they want to kill her? Surely it wasn't because she loved a Dwarf, it just didn't seem possible.

She rose and freshened herself and noticed that Dwalin had brought in her pack during the night, so she changed quickly and frowned. Her dresses weren't going to be appropriate travel attire, she was sure. They'd be moving quickly and probably through some rather rough areas. No, she'd have to find something more suitable to wear.

The scent of eggs and bacon came to her and she hurried out. Everything smelled delicious. "Good morning," she said brightly as she encountered Bilbo in the dining room. "Breakfast smells delicious."

"And good morning to you, Annabelle," he returned just as brightly. "Dwalin will be right back. He's gone to check on the ponies." He pulled out a chair for her. "Please, sit. Enjoy breakfast."

He sat across from her and tucked into his own meal and she stared for a moment at the sheer AMOUNT of food on that plate. Where did he put it all? "Thank you for your hospitality," she offered between bites. "You have a lovely home. I'm sorry for barging in like this."

"Oh, it's no bother," he returned with a grin. "I've learned that one has to be prepared for the unexpected." He reached across and touched her hand lightly. "I'm sorry you lost him." His voice was gentle.

She nodded, touched at the gesture. "You knew him," she said finally. "But yes, I miss him. I loved him deeply, Master Baggins, be sure of that." She touched the braid. "I would never have accepted this if I didn't. And I will never stop wearing it, because of that love. I don't care how many Men object to my choice. It was mine, and I would choose no differently no matter how many "more suitable" choices I was offered. He was mine, and I loved him."

"As I'm sure he loved you," Bilbo replied. Dwalin was right, she was something special. She had grace and poise and dignity, all of which had been lacking the night before. "And none of this "Master Baggins" nonsense, if you please. I'm Bilbo." He watched her for a moment. "Kili was fierce in everything he did, whether it was teasing or fighting. I imagine his love for you was no less fierce, for all it was short lived."

She nodded, moved almost to tears by his words. Then they both heard the door open and Dwalin returned, his face set but not angry.

He placed a parcel on the table and sat down, watching her. "Those should be a little better," he said simply. "The dress suits you, but you need better travel clothes. Try these."

She opened it and found soft leather breeches, a tunic, and a small overcoat. She raised her eyes to his, meeting them fearlessly, letting her gratitude show. "I wasn't certain how I was going to afford them," she explained. "I knew I'd need better travel clothes. Thank you."

He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Don't thank me until we get to the mountain," he warned. "We'll be moving fast, living rough, and you'll likely hate me by the time we get there." He considered for a moment. "We should leave soon. I'll teach you how to use your blade on the way. But we might not have a lot of time." Rumors he'd heard in the market here had warned him. The gossips had been busy, it seemed; tales of a human woman traveling with a Dwarf were making the rounds. And all of them said they were running from danger.

Those tales had already come from Bree. Who knew how far they'd spread, but if asked, anyone here would be able to say with certainty they'd been here. It put Bilbo in danger, but he was sure the Hobbit could defend himself. He had learned a lot on their journey to retake the mountain.

"Then let's go." Annabelle couldn't explain her sudden urge to leave, but she'd heed it. Dwalin was looking grim and that meant danger. She'd already learned that. "Just give me a minute to change."

Her pack was ready as soon as she'd gotten into her new clothes. Soft boots had been included with them and she wondered for a moment how he'd been able to judge her size. She hefted her belongings and went to join the others, a little sad. She'd grown fond of the Hobbit in the short time she'd been with him. "Thank you again for your hospitality, Bilbo," she told him as she gave him a hug. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

"The ponies are in the lane," Dwalin said simply as they left. They adjusted the packs quickly and mounted, moving out smartly to the north. "I'd originally intended to stay on the Great East Road, let you have the comfort of an occasional inn for the journey," he said offhandedly as they trotted along. "Now, of course, we need to be careful."

"Of course." Annabelle watched him for a moment. He still seemed very dangerous, but she had no fear of him. He would die before he hurt her, or let anything happen to her. It was a heady feeling; was this part of being his princess? Because he had made no secret that was what he considered her. "Dwalin?" she queried softly. "Did he – was it quick?" She wanted to know. The thought of Kili being in agony tore at her, and yet she knew it would not have been without pain.

For a moment he thought of lying to her, but she deserved the truth. "He died thinking of you." It wasn't really an answer but maybe he could still spare her the details. "He had time to tell me of you, to ask me to bring word to you of his death. And he knew that when he did so, I'd take on your protection."

"You keep calling me his wife, your princess." She had to know. She had been aware they would get married, of course, she had wanted nothing more, but there had been no ceremony, no formal words spoken. "Why?"

"Because he had every intention of marriage. The braid in your hair is as much a formal declaration as a grand ceremony would be." Dwalin wasn't comfortable but she had to be told. It surprised him that Kili had left her without explaining everything. Then again, when Thorin had called, most of them had simply dropped what they were doing to answer. Maybe he hadn't had time.

"I'm a princess." Her voice was soft with wonder. "I never dreamed." All she knew was that Kili had loved her, and she him. That had been all she needed. Why hadn't he told her? "You'll have to teach me a lot. I don't want to dishonor his memory."

"You won't." Dwalin couldn't look directly at her. She seemed to truly be listening to him now and that was a big step in the right direction. "And I'll teach you. But a lot of our traditions and our language are secret, Annabelle. I might not be able to tell you some things." Why not, he asked himself. She was Kili's wife. She wasn't an outsider. She was their princess.

He drew back to a brisk walk in order to spare the ponies. She looked relieved and he sighed. He'd have to adjust to her pace, and he knew it. Hopefully she toughened up soon. It was a long journey to Erebor, but that was where she needed to be. She needed to be protected. And that was her home now, as Kili's wife.

He knew there would be opposition to her. She wasn't a Dwarf. But he would defend her to anyone who threatened her. She was a Durin now.

They rode for hours before taking any break but eventually he noticed Annabelle's discomfort and called a halt. "We can't stay here but we can rest for a few minutes," he said simply.

"Thank you," she returned with heartfelt gratitude. Inwardly she was a little irritated; he had a lot more experience with this than she did and she was feeling the effects of being in the saddle more than she ever had before. But she'd say nothing. She walked about for a few minutes, trying to ease the stiffness in her legs from the unaccustomed position and then simply climbed back into the saddle and nodded to him. She was stiff, she was sore, and she was sure she would never want to get on a pony again once this was over, but she would continue. She trusted him to know how far was far enough for one day.

It was amazing how much she trusted him now. That a simple vow had made such a difference. He seemed no less fearsome than before, and still plenty dangerous with all his scars and that piece of his ear missing. It spoke of a lot of violence in his life and suddenly she wondered about it. Had he never known any peace? It seemed unlikely.

She made a vow of her own, then, though she'd not mention it to him. She wouldn't be a burden on this journey, no matter what happened. She would follow his direction and help him if she could. And so thinking, she steeled herself against her own discomfort and followed him along the path.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Nine

Dwalin had noted the change in her but made no mention of it. She almost seemed to be trying to ease his way, but of course that couldn't be. She knew nothing of hard travel. And yet when they stopped at night, she laid a fire without asking and cooked whatever he could bring her without complaint. She listened attentively while he told her of Erebor, and of the quest. She listened, rapt, when he spoke of the Battle of Azanulbizar and how Thorin had taken up the shield that had given him his name. Of how the Company had finally routed the dragon Smaug with the help of those in Laketown and retaken their home.

His words turned soft when he spoke of Thorin's gold sickness, of how Bilbo had stolen the Arkenstone itself to try and shock him to his senses, and how that had failed. And his grief was clearly heard, though unseen, when he spoke of the Battle of the Five Armies and how each of his comrades had fared, how first Thorin and then Fili had fallen, of how Kili had been mortally wounded though he escaped death on the battlefield proper. He had lived to be tended and comforted before the end. He had not been alone as the others had been.

She wanted to weep anew, but he didn't need her tears. And then she saw his face, the stark grief in his eyes that he would never openly express, and when she wept, she wept for both of them. For Kili, dead at such a young age and for such a useless reason, lost to simple hate, and for Dwalin, who was so fierce and yet could not tame his own sorrow.

"Ah, lass, I hadn't meant to make you cry," he said softly as he watched her. He felt simply wretched for it though he knew it was her grief that had started the storm. "It was a way to pass the time, story-telling, that's all. I hadn't meant to remind you." And yet it seemed everything did. She had spoken of Kili often, and she carried the little clasp that wasn't in her hair on a fine silver chain around her neck. And the treasure box was never far from her hand.

She wiped her eyes and sniffled a bit before nodding. "It's all right," she replied quietly. "I've cried a lot lately." Mostly when he couldn't hear her, in the deep of the night when she was sure he slept. She would keep her word not to burden him even if he didn't know of the vow.

"Understandable." He fell silent then, watching the fire.

She watched him for a moment and then turned to her bedroll. It was getting chilly at night and she rolled herself into the blankets for extra warmth. "You should get some rest too," she suggested. "We're in the middle of the Wild, Dwalin. Surely we're safe enough for you to sleep too." She knew he had been short on rest, watching over her, and while she was grateful for his protection, she thought he was being a bit foolish. They would hear anyone coming long before they could attack. The crunch of leaves underfoot would warn them.

Speaking of which...

Both fell silent, barely breathing. Dwalin's hand was on his axe and Annabelle's on her dagger. She had learned a bit now about how to use it and while she felt far from confident with it, she wouldn't let him fight alone if someone had come for them.

The sound came closer and then stopped suddenly. Dwalin slowly, silently, moved his axe to the fore and made to stand. Annabelle held her breath.

Arrows rained down around them and Dwalin gave a war cry, rising to his feet and using his axe to deflect a small number of them. Annabelle rolled under one of the ponies, using it to protect her from the projectiles.

She had seen him angry, but this rage gave new meaning to the word. One arrow found its mark in his arm and he ignored it, his deep voice roaring defiance as he charged the copse where the arrows had come from. His axe was a blur in the deepening darkness and blood flew as it found first one target, then another.

She squealed as a hand clamped around her ankle and started drawing her backward but her dagger flashed out and the Man fell back with a strangled curse. She rose then, keeping the pony between her and the archer, and held her dagger in front of her as Dwalin had taught her. If this Man meant to do her harm, she'd bloody him again first.

A strong hand shot out of the dark and clubbed the Man alongside the head. He went down in a heap and Dwalin stepped out, bloody and fury radiating from him like a furnace. The first thing he did was step over the unconscious Man and grab both of her arms, holding her so he could check her for injury.

"I'm all right," she said evenly. "Dwalin. Dwalin!" She had to raise her voice to get his attention. "I'm all right! I'm not hurt." Just a rising bruise on her ankle, but that wasn't worth mentioning.

His bloodlust finally cooled enough to hear her words and he released her quickly, stepping back and picking the Man up by the scruff of his neck. He then dragged the unresisting body near the fire and found some rope to bind his hands with.

"Now that you've got him tied, let me see your arm," Annabelle demanded. She knew enough to get the arrow out of it at least. And she found a few other cuts she could tend, as well. If it was just bandaging, she could do it without help. Getting that arrow out – she'd need him to tell her what to do.

He sat down obediently and she noted it but said nothing. It had to hurt. She swallowed hard. "Tell me what to do. I know I have to get it out but I don't want to hurt you any more." She wasn't at all sure she could do this after all. There was a lot of blood there.

For answer, he gripped the shaft and broke it off near the skin. "Grab hold of the tip, lass," he rasped as he caught his breath. Mahal but it hurt now that he was settled! "It's sticking out the back."

She paled, but she did as he instructed. Would a quick jerk be best or a slow draw through? Her fingers closed around it and she felt rather than heard him breathe deep. Thinking that quick would cause less pain, she pulled it fast and tossed it behind her as it came free.

He gave a stifled shout and his fingers dug deep into the earth for a moment before he could control the pain. He took several deep breaths before he trusted his voice. "Thank you. Bandage it up and we'll find out who sent these Men after us." He was watching their captive with anger.

She rummaged in the packs until she came up with some usable lengths of fabric and got on with making sure he wouldn't bleed to death. And once the bandages were all on and tight, she stepped around him to sit on the other side of the fire and watched as he roused their attacker.

"Your companions are dead," he said simply. "You owe them nothing. Who sent you?"

The Man growled and struggled with his bonds but otherwise remained silent. Dwalin gave a wordless snarl and raised him up by the front of his tunic, bringing him close and repeating the question. Again, no response.

Annabelle came close and the Man's face closed in, hatred showing plainly. "You will die," he spat furiously and Dwalin clouted him in the back of the head. "There's a price on your heads. Both of you. You'll never reach Erebor alive."

Dwalin tossed him across the little clearing to rebound off a tree. The Man stayed where he had fallen, but his hate remained unchanged. Dwalin started forward. "Who is paying the bounty?" he demanded once more.

Their captive must have read death in the Dwarf's face because suddenly he dropped his head. "I don't know. Whoever claims the reward is supposed to go to Laketown and send word through an intermediary. That's all I know. Whoever kills you is to go to Laketown."

"How did you find us?" Annabelle asked quickly. They had purposefully stayed away from the main routes in order to confuse any pursuers. She had a moment's fear for Bilbo and stifled it.

"Word came from Laketown. They said you would cut through the Wild, not take the roads."

Dwalin had heard enough. He hefted his axe but Annabelle's touch on his arm stopped him. "You can't just kill him," she said softly. "If he was still trying to kill us, yes. That would be survival. You're not a murderer, Dwalin, and don't let him make you one."

She stepped over to the Man and cut his bonds before she could reconsider Dwalin's solution. "Go home," she said simply. "If you come after us again, I'll let him kill you."

The Man scurried away, thoroughly cowed, although his hate was still evident. What had she done to make people hate her so? She watched as he went, considering, her face set.

Dwalin watched her for a moment. She was everything Kili had described, now, and every inch a princess. Dignity, kindness, courage, and mercy, she had showed them all in a short period of time and he owed her respect. He just hoped her mercy didn't come back in the night and slit their throats.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Ten

Annabelle was tired of traveling. It seemed they had been running for months, and there were months yet to go. It was a long way from Bree to the Lonely Mountain.

It had only been a matter of a few weeks, really. They were near to Rivendell, and Dwalin had mentioned they might stop there, if only to rest in safety for a few days. He wasn't fond of the Elves, it was obvious, but for her sake, he would endure them.

To her, that was a gift. That he would put aside his own considerations for hers was something no one but Kili had ever done for her. It didn't matter to her that he was doing it out of a sense of duty. It was one more kindness from him that she hadn't expected.

His arm had healed cleanly, and that was something else to be grateful for. She hadn't the faintest idea how to treat an infection and was glad she hadn't had to.

His treatment of her had changed since the night she let their attacker go. It was at once more tolerant and less condescending. She couldn't really describe the difference, but she welcomed it. They were more like friends, now, and that was to the good.

Her grief had finally started to subside. She would feel it the rest of her days, she knew; the promise of a bright future cut short by the sword. And yet she would trade no part of it, even the heartache of separation.

"It's not far now, lass," Dwalin said as he rode at her side. He had seen the ever present sorrow in her face and while it wasn't as sharp as before, it would never truly fade. And yet it hadn't affected her desire to learn, her wish to not be a burden on this journey.

He didn't know what had occasioned it, but she had turned her hand to many things he had thought beneath her or beyond her. She could protect herself, now, at least enough for him to reach her if they came under attack again. She cooked stew that he thoroughly enjoyed, even if it was travel rations. And while the sight of blood disturbed her, she had kept his bandages clean and well tended until he healed.

His respect for her had grown. Gone was the frightened mouse he had taken to Bilbo in the Shire. Granted, she had a great deal more to learn before she would be a true Durin, but she was well on her way.

Suddenly they were surrounded by mounted Elves. Dwalin held up a hand when she would have objected to their obvious disdain and she remained silent, fuming. "We want no trouble," he said simply.

One Elf detached himself from the rest and approached and Dwalin gave him a grave nod of the head. "Lord Elrond," he rumbled.

"Master Dwalin," was the calm reply. "We've been looking for you. Word has come that you are being hunted. Come, rest in peace for a time. None will pass our borders in search of you."

Dwalin nodded again, relief sweeping through him that he would never let anyone see. He was weary to the bone of watching over his shoulder and needed rest. The food here wouldn't be to his liking, but it would be food he didn't have to catch, and she would be protected while they rested up for the rest of the journey. He gestured to Annabelle. "This is Annabelle, wife to Kili, of the line of Durin." There, let the Elf make of that what he would. "Annabelle, Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

She wanted to curtsy but it was impossible while she was mounted. "Thank you." Her words were polite and gracious and again Dwalin was struck by the change in her. He was beginning to understand what Kili had seen in her. "Your hospitality is quite welcome."

"Then come. Refresh yourselves and heal your spirits." Elrond reined his horse about, intending to lead them to the entrance to the valley. Annabelle and Dwalin fell in beside him, finally able to relax a bit.

The first night was spent sleeping. Both of them were exhausted from their headlong pace and the respite was more than welcome.

The next two days were spent with Elrond, explaining the need for flight and why they were being hunted. All they could tell him was that someone as yet undiscovered had placed a price on their heads, for reasons they didn't know, and that they were trying to reach the mountain and safety. Elrond promised to send out scouts to see what they could discover, and in the meantime, they were to make themselves at home.

After that, there was time to rest and explore. And of course, there was time for Dwalin to continue teaching her how to fight.

He'd offered her the choice of sword, axe, or hammer, and she had chosen a sword as simply a longer knife than she was used to. But that was where things got difficult.

She hadn't the strength for the blade, not yet. She could lift it, but a swing was more often than not a clumsy attempt that wouldn't have hurt anything if it had connected. Still, she kept trying.

Dwalin was more than patient with her, and it surprised her. The Dwarf appeared so dour, and yet he was far from it. He never raised his voice to her, even when she was making a right mess of what he was trying to teach.

Case in point was that morning's training. She could barely even lift her sword now, she was so tired, and she was getting discouraged. If he was frustrated with her, it didn't show. Of course, her own exasperation was enough to overshadow it completely.

"Here, lass," Dwalin said as he stepped next to her and adjusted her hold again. She would never use just one hand, he though ruefully. She needed them both simply to hold it. And it wasn't even a big sword. "Proper grip keeps you from losing it in a fight."

"I know." Her own words were filled with frustration and he winced at the self-loathing he could clearly see. "Let me try it again, Dwalin. I need to be able to do this."

He stepped back to watch her again, seeing the struggle she was obviously waging with herself. On the one hand, she seemed to know she would need this to survive, and on the other, she was convinced she would never get it right. Finally she managed one stroke that would have at least hit an enemy and he decided that was enough. "Good. That's enough for one day, Annabelle."

She lowered the sword, watching him intently. Again, she felt that unexplainable change that seemed to have stolen over him of late. Simple respect? Kindness? Friendship? She couldn't put her finger on it and it bothered her. And the touch of his big hands on hers was so gentle which was another thing that was disturbing her.

She chalked it up to nerves. Even here, where she was undoubtedly safe with a whole ARMY of warriors to protect her, she couldn't completely relax. Not with the knowledge that as soon as they left here, the hunters would be on them again.

Suddenly she wanted to be outside. She needed to be. She put her sword away carefully and went to the gardens, wanting the peace they gave her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Eleven

Dwalin hated it in Rivendell.

There was no meat for a decent meal, there was no sense of belonging to him. It was simply a stopping point, and one he didn't care for.

He would never completely trust the Elves, either. None of them had come to their aid when Smaug took the mountain, and even though Elrond had helped them in their quest, it had been under protest. He hadn't wanted them to attempt to retake their home, and Dwalin couldn't forgive that.

But for Annabelle's sake, he would endure.

He was finally understanding what Kili had seen in her. She was kind and gentle, offering peace when he needed it most, and though she was obviously frightened, she made an effort not to burden him with it.

He wanted to comfort her somehow, to take that fear from her, but he didn't know if he could. Or if he should. She was Kili's wife, and he needed to respect that.

And yet the thought remained. Words wouldn't be enough to stop that fear. She was running for her life and didn't even know why. And grief still tore at her as well, he knew, grief she would no longer express in his presence. That her grief was fading never crossed his mind; he still wanted to comfort her, to hold her and let her cry it out.

That was a dangerous thought, and he knew it. She was Kili's wife and he had no right to touch her other than dire necessity. The liberties he had taken so far disturbed him more than any would ever know.

No, he had to stop this before it started. He couldn't hold her while she cried, it wouldn't be right. He had before and he shouldn't have, even then. If nothing else, she was his princess and deserving of respect and privacy. He shouldn't intrude on her.

But he was becoming fond of her, certainly. Danger, his mind chattered at him, and he shushed it absently. She offered nothing more than a little peace at night, quiet companionship with no expectations of more.

She was so eager to please, as well. He'd never have thought it after seeing her in the Prancing Pony; she had seemed so uncaring of what others thought of her. It spoke of long-time abuse and he was sorry she'd had to endure it. Love such as she had shared with Kili shouldn't be scorned and ridiculed as it had been.

But since that first night after they left Hobbiton, she'd seemed determined to help things along. Anything he asked, she at least tried. She'd learned to prepare the game he'd brought her, skinning it and butchering it though he knew the sight of the blood distressed her and he didn't ask her to do it any more. She did it anyway so he wouldn't have to. "You do enough to protect me," she'd explained once when he asked why. "I can at least do this."

She had even taken the time to work with her dagger as he instructed, practicing whenever they stopped, trying to learn as quickly as she could. She had gone against her gentle nature to try to learn to kill and he regretted having to teach such a thing to her.

Sweet, gentle, kind, and obviously capable of great affection and love. Yes, he understood what Kili had seen in her. However, it changed nothing. He could not, WOULD not touch his friend's wife. Not even to comfort her grief. He had to keep his distance.

Only how was he supposed to do so when he would be alone for her for months on the journey? He groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long trip.

He sighed heavily and went in search of her. It was time and past that they moved on. Elrond's scouts had discovered nothing of the origin of the bounty on them and that was frightening in itself. That someone had taken such pains to remain hidden spoke of great fear. Whoever it was feared them so much that he must remain in the shadows until the deed was done. WHY he feared them, no one knew.

He found her in the gardens, on a little bench beneath one of the statues and had to stop still. She looked so different than the woman he had found in Bree. Her hair, which had been a wild mane by the time they reached Rivendell, had been tamed and flowed free now in soft chestnut waves to her waist. The braid remained, the clasp having been polished lovingly. The dress she wore, donated by an anonymous Elf maid, suited her perfectly. The colors were muted, the colors of the changing leaves in the fall, and quite simply, she took his breath away.

It was going to be a very long journey.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Twelve

They took their leave the next morning. They had been given supplies and necessities and Annabelle had a few more changes of clothing. Nothing more than would fit on their pack animal, but still a great deal of aid.

Elrond himself saw them off. He had parting gifts for them. "For you, Dwalin, son of Fundin." he said simply as he handed the Dwarf a small pouch. "Healing herbs and medicines, should you have need of them. Each is clearly marked as to use and dosage."

Dwalin took it with a bow of his head. It was a good gift for a warrior; and he was suddenly certain they'd need these things before their journey was over. "Thank you," he said simply. That Elrond would help them even this much, knowing the way Dwalin felt about Elves, was a bit humbling.

For Annabelle, the Elf held a simple dagger. "For your protection. May it serve you well."

He stepped back from them and allowed them to mount. "I have no words of wisdom for you, save to be wary. I cannot see into your futures to warn you of what they hold. Yet I feel that all is not as it seems, and that deadly peril may still come upon you from many directions. I will only repeat: Be wary. Trust few along your way."

Dwalin nodded and Annabelle was pale, but still they rode out. The longer they stayed here, the more time the hunters would have to track them down. They had already stayed too long.

The time spent had been beneficial, however. Both were rested, refreshed in both body and spirit. The ponies, too, seemed eager to be about their travels, stepping lively down the track back into the wild.

All too soon, they fell into the same routine as before. Ride while there was light, rest in the darkness. Annabelle had become quite proficient in the use of her dagger, but sword work remained difficult at best.

In the evenings, they chatted amiably about anything that struck their fancy. Annabelle finally was able to talk about Kili without tears, and she did so unashamed. She spoke of his visits to her, of his unquenchable spirit, of how he had defended her against what Men assumed when she accepted his claim. How he had been so, so dedicated to her happiness.

Her words, her obvious love for her husband, only served to reinforce Dwalin's resolve. Her grief was fading, and there would be no reason to hold her now. No, he needed to keep away from her as much as he could.

She had become a good friend to him, and he treasured that. He would do nothing to change it. She made things easier most nights simply by being there to listen when he spoke of Thorin and the others. He supposed it was his own grief finally finding expression, but she listened, and that meant everything to him.

He told her of their years spent wandering, finding work wherever they could, and hating it that they had to work in the forges of Men. He told her how Thorin had remained steady through it all, reassuring them when needed that they WOULD reclaim their home. He had been their anchor all those years adrift, and he had made a home of sorts for them in Ered Luin, but it was never enough. He couldn't have rested until Erebor was theirs again.

Then he told her of the gold sickness that had claimed Thorin's mind, the original intent behind the Battle of the Five Armies. She deserved to know the truth, and to know what it could do to even the best Dwarf if left unchecked.

She cracked a yawn and he stopped, regarding her steadily for a moment. "You should sleep," he told her, his voice gruff. And when she had bid him good night and rolled up in her blankets, he fumed silently.

That Kili had to defend her against the Men of Bree rankled him no end. She was a gentle soul, and for them to assume she was – he couldn't even think the word, not connected to her. She was no opportunist, nor was she a whore. Both words made him nearly furious, and both had been applied to her at various times over the course of her marriage, simply because she had chosen a Dwarf over Men.

He let his mind wander while she slept. They were heading over the High Pass come morning, and it was a dangerous part of the journey. Goblins had made a home under those mountains, and he hoped not to run into them. It was bad enough to be running, but to have to flee both goblin and human would be a bit much. He'd have to keep a close eye on her, and they would stay out of the caves. His last adventure had taught him that, at least.

From there, though, he thought they could make Erebor before they were caught. It was a dangerous part of the Wild and also close to Mirkwood. Few would dare Thranduil's wrath.

He would not stop in Mirkwood. The spiders would terrify Annabelle, and he had no love for the Elven King. Rivendell had been bad enough for him, though he had to give Elrond credit for graciousness in the face of Dwalin's obvious disdain. No, they would skirt the edges and hopefully avoid at least that threat.

And so thinking, he allowed himself to drop into a light doze. Any sound out of the ordinary would wake him; he'd been traveling in the Wild for a very long time and he knew the sounds it made. They were safe for the time being.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking details, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Thirteen

The High Pass was uneventful.

It gave Dwalin a sense of urgency. It had been too long since they'd been tracked, and he knew the hunters wouldn't just stop coming, not with a bounty on their heads. Something would happen, and soon.

But it was several days before they were attacked again. He was ready for it, as was Annabelle, but it still was a shock. This band was a mix of Men and Dwarves. That his own people would come after him both surprised and infuriated him. Annabelle defended herself with the dagger and each time one of the hunters got too close, Dwalin had a moment's pause.

Finally they broke free. Dwalin hefted his axe one last time, but most of the Men lay dead at their feet and the one surviving Dwarf fled with the others. He snarled in frustration. There would be no finding out who had sent them, not this time.

Annabelle came to him, her face concerned. "Is any of that blood yours?" she asked quietly, swallowing hard. There was a lot of it.

"Only a little," he grumbled. "Nothing serious." His eyes flew over her, assessing. She didn't seem hurt, either, and he counted it a blessing. "A few cuts." He looked over his arms and growled. He'd have to clean them. He wouldn't ask her to do it. Blood bothered her and he wanted to cause her no more distress.

She simply went about making a fire and setting water to boil. "Come sit down and let me see," she said evenly. "I'll take care of them. I'm not helpless." But she had to swallow hard again when she saw the blood on her own clothes. "It's got to be done and you shouldn't have to do that as well as fight."

He blinked. That was more spirit than he'd seen from her since they had left Bree. But he sat down obediently and held out his arm to her. It was a simple cut, hardly anything to notice, but she had insisted and he would let her do it.

She cleaned it quickly with the now warm water and bandaged it tightly. "There. It shouldn't bleed much, either, it wasn't deep. Just long."

He nodded and fought the temptation to touch her. She was a mess as well, but none of the blood on her seemed to be hers. Her hair was mussed and oh, how he wanted to set it to rights. But he wouldn't. It wasn't his place. It would be too intimate. But how he longed to see it as she had worn it in Rivendell, long and loose and such a pretty shade of brown.

He had to get this under control. She wasn't his. She was Kili's and always would be. He had to stop his wayward imagination before something irrevocable happened. Mahal, what was WRONG with him? He'd never been this way about a woman!

She went through the packs and found some reasonably clean clothes and he turned his back so she could change. He didn't want her out of earshot in case those assassins returned.

He wasn't prepared for her to take the decision from him.

She knelt next to him and held out a small comb. "I can't do it myself, Dwalin. I know it's an imposition but please. There are knots back there I can't reach."

She knew what it meant to have him comb her hair. It was the height of intimacy among Dwarves, but she needed his help. And it wouldn't be such a trial to her; he was gentle with her, no matter what. Even when faced with her absolute inability to hold a sword, he never raised his voice. She cherished that.

She and Kili had loved each other deeply, but even he had been moved to anger sometimes. Usually when she said something thoughtless or he saw the way she was treated after she accepted his claim. Dwalin, it seemed, was more even tempered with her. And that confused her no end.

His hand shook slightly as he took the little comb and she presented her back to him so he could have access to that wild mess. He had never done this for another, and it spoke volumes of her trust. He was aware that she understood what she was asking of him. And yet, she had still asked it. What did that mean? Was it simply necessity, or was there something more?

But he did it. He was able to have her hair sleek and shining within minutes and had to resist the sore temptation to simply wrap his fingers in it and hold on. It was so soft that he didn't want to let go, but let go he did. He had to put some distance between them, and he had to do it now.

"Thank you," she said softly. The firelight gleamed off the bead and he groaned inwardly. What was he doing? But he could no more have refused her request than he could let those assassins have her.

He nodded curtly and turned away, unwilling to let her see how her actions had affected him. He was her protector, not a suitor. He had to put distance there and the quickest way to do it was to stop being so gentle with her. It went against his wishes; she was kind and gentle and he had responded to that. No more. She would have to be harder than she was to survive, he knew that clearly. At least until they got to the Mountain. There, she would be Dain's problem. As Kili's wife, she would have standing, but no place in the line of succession. Dain was King Under the Mountain, and his line would inherit, even though it was rightfully the Durins. Only Kili had been the last of that line.

His mind was wandering. He needed to pay attention and stop thinking of her as more than his charge. Thinking of her as his friend was having too much effect on his emotions.

Annabelle noted the change with some dismay. What had she done wrong? Had she overstepped by asking for his help with her hair? She knew it was intimate, but she had thought he wouldn't mind. He had seemed warmer of late, friendlier, a bit more comfortable with her. Much more like her friend than her bodyguard, and suddenly she understood.

No, she should never have asked him to comb that mess. He had misunderstood. She wanted to explain, to tell him she hadn't meant what he thought, but she couldn't find the words. She hadn't been asking him to court her. Though now that the thought occurred, it wasn't so horrible. Kili was gone, and while she would never forget how she had loved him, she could never have him back. No, she couldn't dishonor both of them. "Dwalin, I -"

"Don't." One word, spoken with heat. "Go to sleep, princess. We'll move on in the morning."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

**My apologies for the late update! I can only plead overwork. ~sigh~ Anyway... should be back on schedule, at least one update per day and probably two! Enjoy!**

**Oh, and the reviews are simply LOVELY, my dears. Keep them coming! **

Part Fourteen

The months they had been traveling wore at Annabelle. Dwalin had been harsh and cold to her since that night, insisting on treating her like the royalty he considered her and refusing to use her name any longer. She was always "princess" to him now and she hated it.

There had been more incidents with hunters, but they had discovered very little more than they already knew. Someone who kept to the shadows had put a price on their heads and apparently the purse was a handsome one. It had to be, for the number of assassins looking for them.

They were coming close now to Laketown and possibly some answers. A day or two would see them within its walls, if Dwalin chose to face the danger head on. Annabelle simply went where he told her now without protest or comment of any sort. She worked with her dagger, she worked with her sword, but he had little to say. A grunt of acknowledgment when she did something right, a growl when she didn't. He had barely spoken to her at all, unless necessary.

She, in turn, had attempted to make things right. She continued to see to his comfort when they stopped to make camp, but he simply accepted it and went on. She had nearly despaired of them ever being friends again, or even cordial to each other.

He reined in suddenly, within sight of the gates, and she stopped next to him. "You will do exactly as I say, princess, and without hesitation or question, is that clear? If I tell you to run, I expect you to be miles away before I'm finished talking." The harsh words burned in his throat. He didn't want to treat her like this, but he had to. He was far too taken with her for anything else. She was his friend's wife, and she was his princess. He had no right to that familiarity they had found before, no right to want her as he did. No right to court her as he wished, to find his fingers once more in her hair perhaps with a bead of his own. She was Kili's wife. She would never be his.

"No fear, Dwalin," she replied, her voice deceptively soft. "Nothing would keep me near if you told me to go." Her words were uncharacteristically barbed, double edged. He knew without a doubt that she would run if he asked... and that she would not return after without dire need. She seemed to hate him, and while it was necessary, it tore at him.

"Then let's see if we can find some answers here." He rode down into the town, marking the way everyone stared at them. It was more than just a Dwarf and a human traveling together – he could feel the morbid curiosity in those stares, the sense of something waiting to happen. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake bringing them here.

They swung down outside one of the inns and went inside, going to a table in the back and asking for food. They would wait here, now, until something or someone gave them a hint as to their predicament.

It wasn't long in coming. A Man slipped into a chair at their table, regarding them curiously. "Aren't you afraid to be here, Dwarf?" he asked softly. "There are many interested in your heads. Not so much yours, really. Hers."

Dwalin took a long swallow of his ale before speaking. "And why is that?" he asked, getting right to the point. "What could anyone possibly have against this mouse? She's helpless without me."

Annabelle thought to protest but subsided quickly. He knew what he was doing and if he wanted their unknown enemy to think she was helpless, then she could play that game. And after all they had been cold to each other for months, she still trusted him. He would never allow any harm to come to her.

"She will never live to reach your mountain," the Man returned quietly. "And even if she does, she will never be out of danger. His reach is long, it's said, and his purse endless. He speaks no word of why he wants her dead – only that he does and is willing to go to great lengths to see it happen."

Dwalin blinked. Was this Man one of the hunters, or was he helping them? This was getting confusing. He wasn't used to intrigue like this. Give him a straightforward fight any day. "Why tell us this?" He wanted to kick Annabelle under the table to keep her quiet, but it didn't seem it would be necessary. She was following his lead quite well.

"Because unlike some, I care not for gold or jewels." The Man's voice was soft but strong. "I do have a care for those who cannot protect themselves and wish no harm to befall them." He gave them a small smile. "It seems she has an able protector, however, so I shall take my leave, with a final word of warning." His features grew grim, what they could see in the dim light under the hood of his cloak. "Trust only those who have earned it. Be wary of false friends."

"Can you get a message into Erebor?" Dwalin asked quickly. Was this one helping them, or was he setting a trap? "I've need of my kin if I'm to protect her properly, to get her safely to Dain."

The Man regarded them steadily, as though assessing them. Dwalin returned the stare in turn, noting the careful way the Man kept himself ready while not appearing to. He also noted the bow at his back and the sword at his waist. Ranger, he decided quickly. Why would they care if Annabelle lived or died? Finally he spoke again. "I cannot," he said slowly, "but I know someone who can. Give me the message and I will see it delivered."

"Your name, Ranger." Dwalin wasn't going to take chances. He was marginally encouraged that this Man hadn't tried yet to kill them, and seemed to have their safety in mind, but he wasn't going to trust on faith.

The Man let something sparkle in his eyes for a moment that might have been laughter. "So serious, Master Dwalin," he said simply. "You do well not to place your trust in those you don't know. I am Halbarad."

Dwalin nodded. He had heard the name before leaving the mountain. One of the Rangers that was helping to patrol the northern wilds, hunting Orcs and other such evil. He quickly withdrew a piece of parchment from his belt and scribbled a quick note. "This must go to Balin, no one else. He is the only one I trust."

Halbarad nodded and took the message, glancing at it only long enough to recognize it was written in Khuzdul and approving. No one else but a Dwarf would be able to read it. That there were Dwarves hunting them wasn't lost on the Ranger but this message would not reach the wrong hands. He would see to it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Fifteen

Dwalin took her with him back into the wild. She didn't even ask why they were leaving. She just followed him obediently as she'd promised to do and spoke little if at all. He was back in his sullen, quiet, protective mood and she wasn't going to aggravate him any more than she had to.

She might not have asked, but she was curious. Surely they would have been safer inside the town, or even heading for Erebor itself. But she had put her trust in him to protect her and she wouldn't question him, especially not with him looking like a bloody thundercloud. She wasn't afraid of him, but she wasn't going to prick his temper any further, either.

She simply set out everything they'd need for a campsite, but when she started gathering wood, he stopped her. "No fire," he rumbled. "We need to stay hidden."

She shrugged. It was going to get awfully cold, but she still wouldn't question him. "Fine."

He wanted to explain to her. He wanted to tell her what his plan was. He wanted to just talk to her, but he couldn't. He didn't dare let her know how much he missed the closeness they had found on their journey. He didn't dare, because if he did, he would tell her everything. He would tell her what it had cost him to simply comb out her hair for her, about the struggle he waged daily to keep from simply pulling her to him and showing her how he felt about her.

Her gentle nature drew him. Not once on their journey had she asked anything for herself until she asked him to tame the mess her hair was in. She was selfless, and she was kind. She had eased his way such as she could for the entire trip and he was grateful to her for it, but it was much more than gratitude he felt for her. Others might see the simple barmaid she had been, plain and unassuming, but he had seen her worth as a companion and a friend. She was still plain – but she was beautiful to him.

She gave him peace. It was that simple. In a lifetime of war, of violence more often than not, she gave him peace. She asked nothing and gave everything. And it was something he hadn't even realized he was missing until he met her.

It was late and she had rolled herself into her blankets while he was thinking. She had her back to him and suddenly he was certain she was more than upset and determined not to let him know it. But the attacks had been coming more and more often the closer they got to the Lonely Mountain. He needed to think this through.

Something was wrong. The nearer they got to safety, the more frequently assassins found them. And the bounty had to be substantial; they weren't individual hunters, they traveled in groups. For that to happen, there had to be enough to split among them.

Why were they coming so much more often? They were within sight of Erebor, of home and safety. Why now? It was a puzzle and he was frustrated by the lack of answers to his questions. He needed Balin to explain everything to him and that discouraged him as well. He wasn't stupid, not by a long shot, but this – this conspiracy was beyond him. And it would be days before Balin would be able to get to them.

He gave a glance over to Annabelle and frowned slightly. She was asleep – but she wasn't resting. She shivered in the deepening chill and his scowl deepened. She couldn't be allowed to freeze and he wondered suddenly how long she'd been hiding her discomfort. She hadn't said much at all to him, not really, since the day he'd decided to put this distance between then. He keenly felt the lack. She had spoken only what was necessary and suddenly he realized he had hurt her badly, but he didn't know what to do about it.

Whatever else, he couldn't let her freeze. He shrugged out of his greatcoat and laid the fur over her as well. Then he settled down to wait.

Annabelle woke the next morning and felt different. The blankets felt heavier for some reason and she sat up, concerned.

That concern vanished when she saw the greatcoat spread over the top of everything else and realization dawned. He had at least been worried enough to keep her warm. But the warm feeling that thought gave her disappeared quickly when reality set in. He had only done it because she was his princess, not his friend. He had been protecting her, no more. The friendship they had found in the wild was gone and she mourned it almost as much as she mourned Kili. And it had been her fault. She had been overly familiar with him and he had taken offense. And she didn't know how to fix things.

She shrugged inwardly. At least she could still ease things somewhat. She got up and rummaged in the packs, quietly so not to wake him if he was truly sleeping. She'd at least get some kind of breakfast ready. No fire, but there was dried food available and she would make sure he ate as she always did.

A week spent in near silence had both of them ready to do violence. No attacks had come, and Dwalin couldn't credit that, either. He was tired of waiting and watching. It wore on his nerves and he'd been even more snappish with Annabelle, which he regretted immensely.

A birdcall surprised him and he rose, watching the trees warily. His axe was in hand, and Annabelle rose as well, holding her dagger before her. Then Halbarad stepped out and they relaxed, but only slightly. "I brought someone to you," he said simply. "You are well hidden. You would not have been found otherwise." Dwalin nodded thanks as Bofur came out as well. And he greeted the other Dwarf with thinly disguised relief.

"Balin would have been followed, I think," Bofur said simply as he embraced Dwalin tightly. He stepped back and looked over to Annabelle. "So she's the one."

Halbarad had disappeared back into the trees and Dwalin gave the Man full marks for stealth. "Bofur, this is Annabelle," he said simply. "Kili's wife."

He saw the other Dwarf mark the braid and Kili's bead and suddenly Bofur smiled. "My lady," he said simply. He bowed quite properly to her. "I am at your service, princess." But he turned back to Dwalin then and his face grew somber once more. "Balin has a plan to find your seeker. But it will require a little more of us being sneaky. Word has reached the mountain of her, and to say things are unsettled is putting it mildly."

He explained quickly and Dwalin growled at him but he had to admit it was a good plan. "Can you find your way back without the Ranger?" he asked softly.

"From here to Laketown? You've got to be joking, of course I can." He gave another bow to Annabelle. "We will see you safe, princess. And this will help." He held up the twin to the bead she wore in her hair. "I wouldn't take it from you elsewise."

"I know." They were the first words she had spoken in days. "Thank you, Bofur. You're putting yourself at risk for us and you have my respect for that alone."

"Best you get moving," Dwalin said quietly. "We've got to know what and who we're up against. She can't stay out here much longer. It's getting too cold."

"I think you can safely have a fire. Get her warm, Dwalin, before she gets sick." He gave them both a grim smile, and when he left, he carried not only the bead -

- he also had one of Dwalin's axes.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Sixteen

It was a long wait again before Bofur returned. Another week spent in near silence had them if not at each other's throats, then so unfailingly polite to each other that they could cheerfully have screamed. Even Dwalin felt the strain.

She said nothing unless he spoke to her first. And since he didn't speak to her unless absolutely necessary, it was very quiet in their little camp.

Bofur returned on the sixth day, and his face was set and drawn. "We need to talk," he said quickly as he drew them together near the fire. "Dwalin, you can't take her to the mountain. You need to find somewhere safe, and quickly. I did what Balin asked, I took those tokens to Laketown and tried to collect the bounty." He shook his head and held out the purse he'd received. "Balin thought since I wasn't as well known that it would work, and it did. Look at those coins, Dwalin. Tell me what you see."

Dwalin did as asked while Annabelle looked on, still silent but more than curious. Then Dwalin's face closed in, set tight, and fury simply radiated from the big Dwarf. Annabelle thought that if she didn't have his vow to fall back on that she would be very, very frightened of him now. That expression on his face promised death. "It can't be."

"Oh, it is. Balin confirmed it. He found both tokens in his room later." Bofur's voice dropped. "Dain wants both of you dead, and quickly. Her, because of who she is. She has a legitimate claim against the treasure if she chooses to use it, and he fears that. The gold-sickness has his mind. But you? You have to die so he can get to her, because he knows YOU will die before you let him kill her. It's just who you are, Dwalin, and he knows it well. We have to find a way to protect her until he can come to his senses."

"He won't." Dwalin spoke softly as well, but the words carried clearly. "You know as well as I how hard it can grip a Dwarf. It took death to break Thorin from it. And whatever else he may be, Bofur, he is our King. To move against him would be suicide."

Annabelle just watched, feeling more than a little scared now. The one place they had thought to find safety was out of their reach, full of enemies. And yet she refused to become what Dwalin had called a frightened mouse. If nothing else, she would keep it tucked down deep inside her where he couldn't see. He didn't need her fear complicating things, not again.

Arrows fell around them and as one, they rose to fight. Armed and armored Dwarves surrounded them, cutting off escape. "Throw down your weapons and you won't be harmed," the leader thundered. Dwalin gave a glance to Annabelle before doing as ordered. He recognized these soldiers, as did Bofur who dropped his mattock. Annabelle followed their lead and the trio was swiftly bound. "You are under arrest for treason against Dain, King of Erebor," it was explained and Annabelle blanched.

Dwalin looked positively furious and Bofur kept his mouth shut. They were in enough trouble without him saying anything. Annabelle, however, showed no such restraint. "They were protecting me, you lout, and I order you to let them go." She showed them her braid, complete with the bead, hoping they would recognize it as the others had.

"I know who you are, princess, but my orders come from the King himself. I cannot simply ignore them." But he looked uncertain for a moment.

Nonetheless, they remained in custody and were taken away.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Seventeen

Annabelle sat in her room and fumed.

Dain had ordered her kept in comfort, but Dwalin and Bofur languished in the dungeons. She wanted to see them, and she had been denied. Dain, it seemed, wanted her to believe that Dwalin and Bofur were part of a larger conspiracy determined not only to take her life, as Kili's wife and princess of Erebor, but to take the mountain while it lay divided. She didn't believe it for one minute.

But Balin came to her often and they talked. He kept her apprised of how the others fared, though he was careful to keep his tone neutral. Nonetheless, she knew he was firmly on her side. He just couldn't show it openly for fear of also landing in the dungeons and thence being unable to help the others. He was being watched and he knew it.

He did, however, carry messages between the prisoners and Annabelle. Apparently that was to be permitted and Annabelle got word that way that Dwalin was still in a rage and not likely to speak anything civil for some time. Bofur had Balin tell her they were both well, unharmed, and that she was to do what she needed to in order to stay alive. Dain had wanted them all dead, and she needed to be circumspect.

It was several days later when Dain himself deigned to visit her. She'd been confined in the same room for long enough that she was ready to scream, but she still greeted him cordially. She would behave until she knew what she could do to help the others.

"Princess, thank Mahal you're safe," he said with a small smile as he gestured for her to sit and took the chair across the little table from her. "I was desperate to find you, to protect you from those who would harm you." His voice grated on her nerves but she forced herself to remain outwardly composed. Inside, she was a snarling mass of fury. How DARE he preach such hypocrisy? He'd tried to have them killed himself! "Forgive me for not seeing you before now. Please, how may I make you more comfortable? Name it."

"Let me see Dwalin." The words were out before she could censor them, but maybe that was for the best. She wanted no misunderstandings about the way she felt about him. He was her friend, her protector. He had done nothing to harm her, indeed had vowed on his life not to. That was not the act of a betrayer.

"You don't really mean that, Annabelle." Dain regarded her quietly, his face serious. "He kept you in the wild for months instead of bringing you directly home to us. How could you harbor any feelings for him other than scorn and hatred?"

"Because he was Kili's friend. He was Kili's protector. He was MY protector in the wild. He saved my life many times. I owe it to him to at least say goodbye." She thought maybe those words would sway Dain enough to let her see him. She needed to see him, needed to know he was all right. Well, not all right, really, not locked in a cell... but he was still alive. And she didn't question her need to see him. She just did.

Dain considered her for a moment more. "If you really must see him, then I suppose I can allow it," he said slowly. "But I would like a concession from you in return."

She fought to keep her face impassive. "And what would that be?" She had to know what he was up to. To accuse Dwalin of treason – it was beyond madness, and others were beginning to realize something was wrong.

"That you will accept my rule. You will not attempt to claim the throne." He knew she could, and that others would back her. She was Kili's wife, and Kili had been one of Thorin Oakenshield's heirs. She could conceivably raise an army and take Erebor if she chose.

Annabelle blinked. He actually thought she wanted the mountain! He was just as mad as Bofur had claimed. But that vow she would have no trouble making. She had no desire to have a kingdom. She hadn't accepted Kili's claim for any reason other than that she loved him. She hadn't even known he was a prince. So Dain could keep his bloody mountain; she didn't want it. "I accept your terms. Now take me to Dwalin."

(the Dungeons)

Dwalin sat next to the grate between his and Bofur's cells. They had kept each other company for long days now. Or rather, Dwalin had been cursing and railing until he ran down and Bofur had merely provided an ear to hear it.

Now that his friend was quiet, Bofur decided they could discuss a few things. Such as Dain's madness. And of course, Annabelle.

He had learned more from Dwalin's silence than from his words. And what he had learned, he kept quiet until he couldn't any longer. "You know, you're a right fool."

"What?" Dwalin's voice was gruff and just a bit incredulous. But it was conversation, of a sort, and something to pass the time with, certainly. "Why?"

"Because you won't tell her how you feel." Bofur knew he was on dangerous ground, but it didn't matter any more anyway. They'd likely be executed soon enough, since they were considered traitors. It had done no good to protest their innocence. Nothing would sway Dain from his notion that they wanted to take Erebor from him.

"Mahal, Bofur, she's Kili's wife!" But he didn't deny anything and that told Bofur everything.

"So she was." How to make his friend see what was in front of him? "Was, Dwalin. For good or ill, Kili is gone."

Dwalin rose to pace. "I know that. Just what are you trying to say?" He'd passed gruff now and was on the way to thoroughly angry.

"Oh, nothing. Just that since she's a widow, she could be courted by another. Maybe one of the Men would like a kind, gentle wife to come home to." All right, he was laying it a bit thick, but someone had to make the oaf see what he had if he'd just accept it.

Dwalin growled.

"Why should you care?" Bofur demanded, a little heat in his own words now though inwardly he was gratified by the warrior's response. "Because right now, I guarantee you, she's with Dain and he's probably trying to bring her to his side with tales of our supposed treachery. Trying to make her think that you were really trying to kill her. Who knows? She might actually believe it, after the way you treated her."

The growl became a snarl. "She would never believe it." He sat back down by the grate again though his fists were clenched. "I swore never to harm her. I swore it on my life, Bofur. I would never hurt her." Abruptly his anger left him. "No matter how cold I was to her, she was always trying to make things easier on me. On ME, d'ya hear? I've lived my life rough and hard, and here she is, making sure I ate, keeping the fire warm, mending my bloody coat of all things. Caring for my hurts when I had them, even though the sight of blood made her sick. She was always there to give me some sort of peace."

Bofur merely nodded now until he realized that the other still couldn't see him clearly. "Feeling a bit foolish now, are we?"

"More than a bit." Dwalin rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "But there's no way to tell her now. It's not something I'd have Balin tell her, it's too – no." Not to mention his brother would tease him unmercifully for being an idiot. "And she can't come here, Dain would never allow it."

"Then do the next best thing." Bofur wanted to know. The woman that had taken his friend's heart had to be something special. "Tell me about her."


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Eighteen

So Dwalin talked. He talked until he was hoarse about how he had come to care for Annabelle. How he had taken her to Bilbo in order to calm her fears, most specifically her fear of him. Of how Bilbo had helped him to understand WHY she was afraid of him and even managed an approximation of the Hobbit's voice, which had Bofur nearly in tears from laughter. Of their time in Rivendell, and how he had found her in the gardens and realized that maybe he did want her, after all. And finally, of how she had asked him to comb her hair.

Bofur was amazed. She had to have known what she was asking. She had already been married to a Dwarf, and Kili wouldn't have been shy about telling her. "She did WHAT?"

"She asked me to comb her hair, Bofur. And I did it." Dwalin remembered the feel of her hair in his fingers, the softness of it, like the feel of fine silk. "That's when I decided I couldn't be kind to her any more. It was leading both of us down the wrong path. Or so I thought." He sighed heavily. "She was Kili's One, my friend. How can she be mine as well?"

"Do you really mean that?" Annabelle's soft voice came from the doorway and he rose, his heart pounding, unable to credit that she was really there. She had both hands on the bars in the tiny window and he took them gently into his own.

"Every word, Annabelle." But he faltered after that. He'd never felt this way about a woman and wasn't sure how to proceed. And he was under a sentence of death. How could he put her through that again? To lose someone she loved to the sword once more – he was suddenly sure it would kill her as well. "I want you to promise me something," he said softly. He heard Bofur moving away from the grate to give them at least the illusion of privacy. The cells were so close together he'd still hear, but at least he had some tact.

"Anything." Her voice was soft and held something he had never heard directed at him. It caught at him and he pulled it close, keeping it in his heart.

"That once I'm dead, you'll go on." He hated being so blunt with her, but it had to be said. Dain was going to kill them. "Don't pine away. Stay to remember us."

"Dwalin, you idiot." He blinked at the vehemence in her voice. "I'm not that stupid." A snort of what could be laughter was heard next door and they both ignored it, though they both smiled a little sadly. She was finally the same woman he had met in Bree, confident and self-assured, and the thought saddened him. "But I love you and I won't see you dead. I'll think of something. I can't just stand there and let you die."

"Go to Balin." The words were out before he was even sure he was going to say them. "He can help you. Dain has the gold sickness, he's mad with it. Balin may know what can be done." He had little hope, but what he had, he would give to her. He kissed her fingers tenderly through the bars. "Go on. But come back if you can." He needed to see her, now, needed her like he'd never needed anything in his life.

"I'll be back." Unspoken was the thought that something could still go wrong. He might yet be facing a sword. She gave him a worried look and went away and he sat back down by the grate, a bit dumbstruck.

"So now you know." Bofur had come back as well. "I don't know about you, Dwalin, but I'm not going to die on my knees," he said thoughtfully. "I'm going to fight them every step of the way. And I think that you will, too. Not just because it's who you are. Because you finally have something besides war to live for."

"There has to be something we can do!" Annabelle said firmly. "Balin, please. I can't just let them die. I can't."

"Things are in motion, lass, that might well spell the death of the entire kingdom," he replied as he watched her. "Their arrest has caused no end of whispers in the night." Of necessity, he kept his voice soft and watched carefully. "Everyone is taking sides. And most take Dwalin's, Bofur's... and yours."

"A war," she breathed. "Valar, Balin, this isn't what I want. All I want is to save them."

"It might come to that, lass, even though it isn't your wish. Many have spoken out against Dain now, and been imprisoned for it. He fears for his kingdom, and more for his gold." He regarded her seriously. "I would save my brother as well. But if it comes down to violence, many will die." His eyes softened slightly. "Perhaps even you. Dwalin tells me that you can't even hold a sword. How would you defend yourself?"

"I don't care. Anyone that tries to hurt him is going to get hurt in return." She didn't realize how hard she sounded, but Balin was encouraged. "It might kill me but I won't stand by and let them just take his head. I won't."

"Good. Then this is what we do."


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Nineteen

Dain allowed her free run of the mountain after she agreed not to pursue the throne. She spent a lot of time visiting Dwalin and Bofur, and of course time with Balin, who made certain she knew the hidden ways through the mountain he had learned as a boy, under the guise of teaching her about her new home. But still, Dain watched her frequently, his eyes narrowed as though he didn't yet trust her to keep her word.

She had dinner with him every night. It wasn't courting; she was smart enough to realize he was just keeping an eye on her. And while she was able to keep a straight face and avoid overtly insulting him, he seemed to take insult sometimes by her very existence. And the braid in her hair was a BIG point against her. But was it because she was human or because it was Kili's bead she wore? She wasn't sure.

Finally Dain made a decision. It had been expected, but still it hit all of them hard.

The execution was to be held the next day.

Annabelle raged at him, she pleaded with him, she did everything but threaten his life, but Dain remained unmoved. He saw Dwalin and Bofur as a threat and he was going to act accordingly.

Balin had kept her apprised of his subtle manipulations, but it wasn't enough. She still wasn't sure how they would be saved.

Whispers had reached her, however, whispers of unrest in the mountain. She had communicated those to Balin quickly, leaving it to him to do what would be necessary to bring about their safety. She had no idea how to deal with the intrigues that clearly were going on in Erebor and wasn't sure she wanted to learn, either. Balin handled it with dignity and poise and she almost envied him, until she realized that it was a knack she didn't want to learn. Dueling with words, that seemed useless to her. Plain speaking had always served her well, and she'd continue to do so.

All he had asked of her was to keep her eyes and ears open and relay anything she thought important to him. She had done so, bemused, bewildered, and sometimes just plain confused. But now that the moment was on them, she wanted answers.

But what he had to say surprised her. "Dwarven justice is always observed with ceremony," he said simply. "Take this. While Dain is addressing the crowd, use it. You should be able to free them both before he notices anything amiss. The guards who will be watching them are firmly in our court."

She took the key and turned it over in her hands while carefully NOT looking at him. "And how am I supposed to get near them? Won't Dain be expecting me to show my support for him?"

"Oh, my dear." Balin gave her a small smile. "He thinks you no threat whatsoever now. He knows what you were, when Kili married you. And he simply can't credit that a common barmaid would be able to thwart him, even knowing who your husband was. He thinks you harmless."

She laughed then, but it was a bitter, hollow sound. "I may be a simple barmaid, Balin, but I am more dangerous than he can imagine. All I need do, I think, is call upon the remnants of the Company to rise up and Dain's people would follow them. But that isn't the plan." She sighed. "I'll do as you told me. But if anything happens to Dwalin – I will fight. I might not fight well, I might not fight long before I fall, but I will fight to the death to defend him."

Balin blinked. Yes, she was worthy of Kili's bead, and Dwalin's as well when he could give it to her. It mattered not to him that she was nearly helpless compared to them. What mattered most was that she meant every word she had spoken. She would die to protect him. And that made her a force to be reckoned with. "Do exactly as I say, Annabelle, and there should be no need," he reassured her. "And above all else, you must not let Dain know what we are about. He must not suspect or we will join our friends on the block."

She gave him her word to be circumspect, but she wasn't at all certain she could keep this from Dain. She simply wasn't an actress. However, if she did nothing, Dwalin would die. Bofur would die. And perhaps even more. No, she would have to do this and do it well. And she was to dine with him in a few minutes, as she did every night. To not go would give him warning that all was not as it seemed.

He still seemed to realize something was amiss when she arrived. "Annabelle, I would not take this course if I felt any other was possible," he said quietly as he watched her. "I know you care for him, even though he did try to keep you from us. I don't understand why, but I do realize you care. This has to be difficult for you."

"I don't want to talk about it." Annabelle barely kept from snarling at him. "You've made it plain you don't care what I have to say." Anger wasn't going to help the situation but it would establish that nothing had changed. She'd been angry with him since the start for what she considered his inflexibility – and of course the fact that he had tried to kill her. But he didn't know that she knew about it so she had to watch her tongue.

"I'm sorry." The hell of it was, he sounded like he truly was. Annabelle had to steel herself against that soft voice. She thought she might have liked him if he hadn't tried to kill her. She would NEVER forgive that. Nor would she forgive his treatment of Dwalin.

She gave him a nod of her head but that was all. "Thank you for dinner, Dain, but I'm going to Dwalin. I want – I want to say goodbye." There, that was just the right note to take. And it wasn't even a lie. She needed to see him again, to see him in case things went wrong.

She rose and was halfway to the door when he spoke, his voice even but clearly carrying an edge. "Annabelle. Do not oppose me in this. Do not force me to take action against you as well."

She gave him another nod, not trusting her voice. Did he know? No, he couldn't possibly. Then she stepped out of the door and went to the dungeon.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

Part Twenty

After hours spent outside his cell, Annabelle heard the tramp of heavy booted feet approaching. She held Dwalin's gaze, her own troubled, until the guards forced her away to open the cell. One gave her a barely perceptible headshake and she stayed back, hoping against hope that this mad scheme would work. One of the guards took her by the arm.

"Come with me, Princess," he said simply and she covered a start of recognition. But she allowed herself to be led away after one last, longing glance at them. And the minute they were out of sight, he pulled her around another corner. "Here, put this on." He gave her a long cloak with a hood. "No one will think twice about another hooded mourner at such a travesty."

"Ori, you scared me to death!" she growled but she did as asked. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes. The others are waiting, too." He gave her a small smile. "If all goes well, there will be no fighting."

"And if it goes badly?" Her voice was soft and for a moment, she felt like that mouse again.

"Just hope it goes well." He led her to the small room where the captives would be held, just behind the dais that held the throne. It was a poor place to keep an eye on a convicted criminal, but it would serve them well. Ori made a few signs to the guards in place and then opened the door.

She ducked inside, the little key held firmly in her hand, and worked the locks quickly. And when they were free, she threw herself into Dwalin's arms, clinging to him like a lifeline.

He set her back reluctantly. "Later, lass," he rumbled, though his voice was kind. "Let's do what we must."

"You'll need these." The other guards had dropped their disguises and Annabelle was relieved to see those others of the Company. Gloin produced Dwalin's axe and Bofur's mattock.

Annabelle watched them as they took the weapons, and she watched as Dwalin again became a hardened warrior. This was what he was born to, violence and war, and she was no part of that. Yet he loved her, and she him. It was a puzzle.

"Something's happening." Dori's voice from the doorway warned them and they heard the sounds of violence begin above them.

They heard Balin's voice raised in fury and all of them stormed toward the stairs. Annabelle followed more slowly; if it was a true fight, she'd be of little use. Still, her dagger was in hand and she dashed up the stairs behind them.

It was chaos. Dain's guard stood between him and the mob, defending him as much as they could, but it wasn't going to be enough. The Company in full glanced to Dwalin and Bofur. Dain had done them horribly wrong, had intended to kill them, but they would follow whatever the pair decided.

They didn't hesitate. They hated Dain, but they didn't want him dead. He was their King and he wasn't in his right mind. That was the ONLY thing that saved him from Dwalin's axe.

Dain's son Thorin Stonehelm was near to hand, obviously attempting to protect his father and still pacify their people. The Company charged forward, ranging themselves in front of the stricken King, allying themselves publicly with him.

Stonehelm raised his hands and the Dwarves, rumbling ominously, nevertheless set themselves to listen. None were anxious to chance the arms of the Company now defending the King. They were too well known as fierce warriors who had chanced the dragon to regain Erebor. "I know you are angry," he began, keeping his voice steady though he was sore afraid that his words would mean little to them. "These Dwarves fought to reclaim our home from the dragon Smaug. They have fought for us with their own life's blood, and in return, been accused of treason." He watched them carefully now. "Through all of this strife, they have not turned on your King. Even now they defend him, though he has done them deadly insult. If that is treason -"

A surge of noise reached him and he again demanded quiet. "If that is treason, then I would wish more traitors in our midst." The Hall fell deadly silent.

"Your King, my father, is ill," he explained carefully. "He has a sickness in his mind. He sees betrayal where there is none, and has threatened those who meant no harm to others. I will take him, now, to his chambers and there he will remain until such time as he can be restored to himself. Until the gold sickness can be purged from him and he can cause no further harm."

It sounded wrong when said that way, but the Company took heart. He was being brutally honest with his people. "In the absence of my father's judgment, your Prince will pass his own," he stated firmly. "That these Dwarves be released and the accusations of treason be forgotten. They are free to go where they will or remain as they wish."

There was a sullen rumble throughout the Hall, but the threat of violence seemed to have subsided. It seemed that not all was well, though, for some were giving Stonehelm angry glances, but none spoke openly. They began to disperse quietly and Stonehelm turned to them in gratitude.

"Words can't tell you how thankful I am that you chose to side with us," he rumbled. "My father – he has not been himself for months. I had no thought that it had reached this state or I would have taken action before now." He turned to Annabelle, standing still and small behind the others. "You, Princess, have suffered as much as the others, and I would make this right. What would you have of us?"

"Nothing." Annabelle stepped next to Dwalin's side. "Only what you've already promised. That they be set free. And that Dain can do no more harm."

"It is already done." Stonehelm took her hand for a moment and then dropped it quickly at Dwalin's glare. "You have been here for some time, and you have not seen all the wonders of the mountain. My father foolishly kept you on a short leash. Yes, he allowed you to wander, but you were kept from many places I think you would wish to see." He glanced up at Dwalin once more. "I can think of one immediately. And I can think of no better guide to take you there."

Dwalin simply nodded. For all he despised the lad's father, he rather thought he might like this youngster. There was no posturing or false pride in him and that was to the good. More importantly, it seemed that the greed clouding his father's mind hadn't yet spread to him. And he knew where Stonehelm wanted her taken. He would have done it without being told.

He would take her to Kili's tomb.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

**WARNING: This is the chapter that earned this story an "M" rating. :)**

Part Twenty One

It was a beautiful place, she thought. The stone had been lovingly carved, showing both brothers together as they always had been and now always would be.

Kili had talked to her of his brother Fili, endless stories of mischief and love. That they had both fallen was a sore blow, but she also thought they would have wanted it that way. They were still together, and would be forever.

The sorrow she felt for him had faded from that first sharp stab into a mellow ache. She still loved him, and she always would. He had been her first love, and she would treasure that forever. And so she sat vigil, giving him the honor he deserved as her husband. She would sit with him for the night as was her right and her wish. And then she would say goodbye to him. She loved him. But she loved Dwalin as well.

And when the morning came, she wiped her eyes and rose to find Dwalin waiting for her. "You didn't have to stay," she said softly. "What possible danger could I be in here?"

"It isn't danger that made me stay," he replied quietly. His eyes held hers for a long moment.

He took her back to her rooms, thinking she would want to rest now. She had been awake for a long time. But when they got there, she placed a gentle hand on his chest. "Stay," she asked softly.

"Annabelle," he began evenly, but he couldn't resist that touch. Both arms went around her, pulling her tightly to him, nearly crushing her against him as his mouth met hers, demanding and rough.

She clung to him, responding and yet needing more. The power in his frame thrilled her, his strength and his desire for her lighting a fire inside her. She wanted more. His tongue traced her lips demanding entrance and she opened to him, the sensation nearly overwhelming her and making her knees weak. A soft sigh escaped her and that only seemed to drive him harder.

He lifted her up, never stopping his assault on her mouth. She moaned softly as he carried her to her bed and placed her on it and it seemed to drive him even further over the edge. His hands roamed over her, pulling her clothing from her and skating along her sides, her belly, and finally her breasts as he finally left her lips and moved slowly down her throat, nipping lightly and then not so lightly along her shoulder, leaving clear marks on her fair skin.

Her hands weren't idle. They skimmed over his arms where they were exposed, scratching lightly at the skin and desperately trying to get underneath his tunic. "Please," she whimpered softly. "Dwalin, please..."

He drew himself up to look at her, one arm bracing himself on either side of her, and then slid slowly back, watching her face. Then he stood, fingers reaching for the wide belt he wore, loosening it and allowing it to drop. The rest of his clothing followed and she rose to meet him, running her hands over him lightly, learning the planes of his body as he had learned hers. A groan came from him and he grabbed her hands in his, holding them together and away. "Don't." He didn't want to end this too soon and Mahal but she was tempting him! She'd lit a fire in him, one only she could quench. "Annabelle, if you don't stop touching me, this will be over before it starts." He released her hands, holding her eyes with his, trying to convey everything he felt. He wanted her, wanted to feel her around him, wanted to feel her pleasure and know it was him bringing her to it.

She watched him for a moment, her hands resting at her sides, and then stood to meet him, her hands settling on his hips, everything she felt for him in her eyes.

He groaned and brought her close again, his hands stroking her breasts, followed quickly by his lips. He suckled at first one and then the other, giving them as much attention as they deserved, as he had wanted to for a long, long time. Gently he pushed her back onto the bed, working his way lower until he could touch her there. His fingers danced along her skin, teasing and tormenting her until she gasped his name and he could wait no longer.

He kissed his way back up her body, his hands busily stroking her and getting her ready for him. "Annabelle," he breathed. He took her face in his big hands, holding her gently. "Look at me."

She let her eyes meet his and began to tremble. Then he sank into her and she cried out, though not in pain. Her arms went around him again, holding him to her as tightly as she could, rising to meet him as he began to move in earnest. She nipped at his throat, her nails scoring over his broad back as she felt it building. "Dwalin," she moaned softly. She was his, that was all she could think, when she could think at all. She was his and that made him hers. And that thought pushed her over the edge. She screamed as it took her, seeing stars and feeling as though she were in tiny pieces.

Dwalin felt her release and marveled at it for only a moment. This, only he could give her this, and it tipped him over as well. He growled loudly as he spilled into her and his hands found her face again, drawing her to him to kiss her gently. He rolled to the side, taking her with him to avoid crushing her under his greater weight, but he didn't release her. "Mahal, 'Belle, what you do to me," he murmured.

"Belle," she whispered back as she pillowed her head on his broad chest, her fingers lightly stroking the crisp dark hair there. "I like it. No one ever called me that before."

"I could call you mouse if you prefer," he rumbled with a kiss to her hair. He couldn't keep his hands off it. It was so soft, and she was his, he could touch it any time he wanted.

"Not if you want me to answer," she chuckled at him. It was amazing how comfortable she was with him, when at first she had been utterly terrified of him. Now she had no fear of him at all. Even at the height of their passion, he had tempered his strength to not hurt her. "I love you," she said softly.

"Aye, and I love you. You are my One, Belle. I'll never let you go." No, never. She was his. And he was a little in awe of that protective, possessive feeling he felt for her. No one would EVER harm her again, not while he lived.

"I don't want you to." She shifted a little to watch him. Those tattoos, his scars; they drew her. His life had been so hard, so violent. He needed a little peace and she could give that to him. "I'm sleepy." She was exhausted, really, but it had been worth it. She was his.

"Then sleep, my Belle," he said softly. He pulled the furs up to cover them and held her tightly. "Sleep. I'll guard your dreams."


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Hobbit. The late JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and a bunch of other people with a LOT more money than I have do, and I'm just borrowing them to have a little fun and I'll put them back when I'm finished. I'm making no money from this, it's for entertainment purposes only, so please don't sue me. Annabelle is my creation, as are a few of the other original characters in this series. Please consult me before you use them in your own fics; I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where my babies are.**

**Archive permission: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where you're putting it so I can stop by and visit. Thanks.**

**Special thanks to: SerenLyall for all her research into the timeline. Ithil-Valon for characterization. Lindarielwen from Council of Elrond for a sounding board. And PirateColey for encouragement and Dwarf drooling at all hours of the day and night. And ALL OF YOU ladies for brainstorming, tweaking, brainstorming more, and helping me to finally get it right! You guys ROCK!**

**Dedications: To Evendim, who has given me such great pleasure with her own AU series and graciously given me permission to play in hers any time I wish. She has the same permission from me. Without her, I would never have gotten started; she gave me the courage I needed to post that first story, and for that I am forever grateful. To Ithil-valon, who has provided tireless beta-services and been the best friend anyone could ever ask for… I love you for it, hon, don't ever change. And finally, to my beloved AJ, without whom my life is poorer and less bright. Rest in peace, my darling. We'll see each other again.**

**Well, we've come to the end of the piece. Hopefully y'all have enjoyed this tale! And thank you ALL for the kind reviews, the PMs, and the emails. I've enjoyed each and every one of them.**

Part Twenty Two

The next morning, Dwalin combed her hair for her again. Only this time, it was different. This time, it was more than intimate. And this time, he braided a bit of it and sealed it with a sapphire clasp.

He wanted no misunderstandings. Yes, she still wore Kili's braid, and always would. She still loved him. But she loved Dwalin as well, deeply and passionately. And he thought Kili would understand.

Then he handed her the comb and sat still. He knew there wasn't much of his hair there, after all, the top of his head was hairless, but there was enough for what he wanted. And she didn't disappoint him.

Her fingers in his hair were soft and gentle, just as she was. She gave him peace, he thought, and she gave him love. It was more than enough. And when she finished the neat little braid beside his face, she sealed it with the matching clasp he had brought. "You're really mine," she said softly as she kissed him gently.

He nodded, unwilling to break the spell they seemed to be under. Unfortunately, they had to emerge sooner or later or the others would come looking for them. "Let's get this over with," he growled. He wanted nothing more than to stay in her rooms and continue as they had started. He wanted her and needed her in a way he had never felt before, and he wanted to explore it. But he knew they had to make at least an appearance. And what would others think? Would she suffer for her choice? He wouldn't allow it. He'd leave the mountain with her first.

He needn't have worried. The others were waiting down the corridor, and obviously they had been taking wagers as he saw small purses being passed around. It was enough to make him growl under his breath but Annabelle was smiling so he tried to see it from her side. And it gave him a small smile as well. That his friends had been betting on whether or not they'd be together and whether or not she'd have his bead... it was a bit comical, now that he thought about it. Especially since that lot would bet on anything.

"Well?" he demanded as they got closer. Balin gave him a knowing look, Bofur clapped him on the back, and the others simply grinned at him.

"You do know Stonehelm's planned a feast for tonight," Balin explained evenly. "For all of us, for defending the King when we could very well have killed him with no consequences. And I think this will please him as well." He gestured to the matching beads.

"Didn't do it to please him," Dwalin rumbled and Annabelle blushed. "But it's done and it won't EVER be undone." His hand found hers and clasped it tightly.

The others began to drift away, then, knowing that nothing would separate the two. Only Bofur remained behind, watching his friends for a moment. Finally he clasped Dwalin's forearm and gave a little bow to Annabelle. "Tell him he's an idiot occasionally," he said with a smile. "It'll do him good. And Dwalin?" He became serious for a moment. He had to know. After their discussions while imprisoned, he had to know. "Is it everything you hoped for?"

Dwalin looked to Annabelle and touched her face gently. He was a warrior; but she gave him peace. "More than I ever dreamed," he said simply as he drew her away. "More than I ever dreamed, my friend."

~fin~


End file.
